The Cat and the Snake
by Paulathe Cat
Summary: Sam and Dean have faced gods, angels and demons- even the Apocalypse. This time, the goddess, Bast, is hunting an ancient nemesis and she wants the Winchester boys to help. Maybe, they can have a little fun along the way.Sn 6 SPOILERS, strong language
1. Chapter 1

Prologue- 1485 BCE, Palace of Thutmose I, Egypt

It was night inside the stone palace. Dark shadows flickered as the yellow-orange light was cast from the braziers on the walls. A furtive figure darted from one shadow to the next as he made his way through darkened corridors. There were guards standing attention at regular intervals along sandstone walls. Their eyes alert for any movement. The grey-robed figure stayed still in the shadows of an alcove, waiting. He watched the guards as they looked straight ahead. Whispered chanting emitted from the shadows and then the clang of staves as they hit the floor followed by the thump as the guards fell. The spell would not last long. The robed figure entered the large doors into the throne room of the pharaoh. He pushed back the cowl of his robe as he entered and withdrew an urn from the deep recesses of his sleeves. He bowed deep before the silhouette of the slim woman within the shadows.

The queen, Ahmose, emerged from the shadowy chamber. Her lithe form moved with the grace and balance of the savannah cat. Her large, golden predator's eyes cast about her; her planned entertainment for the evening would have been dangerous at the best of times and she did not want to alert anyone to her plans. Sorcery was strictly forbidden and the name of the God in whose name she practiced it tonight had been struck from any writings. She thought of her ambitions and knew her brother would disrupt them if he knew. She must proceed with caution. She dared not even think of the goddess's name or face. If the spell worked, as she believed it would, the goddess would be captured and Ahmose would gain more power as a result. It was business, not personal.

"Are you ready to request Her presence?" she inquired of the sorcerer.

"I am, my queen… though she may not come. She is not accustomed to being summoned." He passed the Enochian-runed bracelets to Ahmose, their silvery glint reflected in the dim light of the room. He placed the urn with a cat head as a lid in the center of the circle of oil etched on the floor. The symbols painted around the perimeter of the circle were dull and silent. She began to shiver with anticipation. A slow smile spread across her face.

"Begin." She commanded.

The sorcerer began to weave the spell that would call the goddess to his queen. It would be up to her to keep her wits about her so that she could disable the deity. After the bracelets were placed on the goddess, he would begin to weave the spell to imprison her in the Urn. His own god would be pleased the goddess was disabled. He had been kept from influencing the Kings of Egypt since Ra created the Protector, the Sacred and All-Seeing Eye. Her spies were everywhere and watched for the serpent minions of Apep.

A movement in the corner of his eye pulled his attention to the two tiny glowing spheres approaching out of the shadows. As they approached the light and shadows receded, he could see that the glowing spheres were the eyes of a tall and graceful figure. The goddess made her way into the light cast by the few braziers lit in the room. Her eyes glowed with the fire of the sun in the dark. As Bast approached the queen, those eyes shifted to a brilliant green within a mask of coffee-colored fur. The fur outside that mask was creamy and her eyes were lined in brown.

"Why have you called for me, Queen of Egypt?" Bast purred. Her cat's eyes flicked only briefly to the sorcerer kneeling on the floor. A coarse growl emitted warning him to remain where he was. He feared briefly that she could detect the deception. But, Bast's gaze returned to fix on the woman in front of her. Her dark cat ears twitched back and forward. One swiveled to the side at some noise in the foyer. She seemed to glide elegantly into the room. The sorcerer realized he was holding his breath. The goddess chose to appear with a cat's head, she was beautiful and sensual. It radiated from her person as did the strength the sorcerer knew could rip him to shreds if he gave any indication as to his true master. As for the Queen, she stood before the goddess with confidence and poise. The queen was not beautiful, but she exuded charm and intelligence, self-confidence and strength the sorcerer knew that would attract the cat-goddess as nothing else would. A small smile lit the face of the queen. The sorcerer could see that the smile belied the deception that glinted in her eyes.

"I wished to present you with a gift." Ahmose explained. The queen approached Bast as one would a lover, the sway of her hips and the thrust of her breast inviting the goddess in.

A smile played upon Bast's mouth and her eyes glowed green. Her pupils widened as the queen approached her. The smell of spicy perfume tickled her rough nose and her nostrils flared as she breathed deeply of the heady scent. Bast's eyes half closed as she breathed in the delightful fragrance. That, too, had been a part of the plan to entice the goddess, to lure her into the trap.

"I have requested a work form the best craftsmen in Egypt and they have delivered these exquisite bracelets for you." She whispered at Bast as she held up the two-inch wide bracelets with the symbols obscured in her hands.

The cat-goddess smiled more fully. She moved closer to the queen. They were so close, they seemed nearly to embrace. "They are lovely!" the goddess breathed in a soft and sensual voice. Her lidded eyes were on the queen and not the bracelets.

Ahmose placed the bracelets on Bast's wrists all at once. There was no hesitancy, just the confidence of a queen fulfilling her part in the deception. The sorcerer began to weave his hands in the strange symbols in preparation of the binding and imprisonment spell. As the queen removed her hands from the bracelets, the goddess recognized the binding spell on them. She realized she had been tricked! She hissed at the queen baring the sharp canine teeth at her. Ahmose smiled broadly as she quickly backed out of the circle. The sorcerer lit the oil and chanted the spell that would imprison the goddess in the urn.

Bast stood inside the barrier of the spell. She was unable to move from inside the circle. She clawed at the invisible force with sharp nails and firmly muscled arms. Her green eyes were wide and fierce as she glared at the sorcerer. Her gaze grew flinty and turned to the deceptive woman next to the circle. "Your plans will never reach fruition, snake." She narrowed her eyes and began to laugh, "Yes, and your line will fail, ended at the fangs of the serpent!" The symbols surrounding the circle flared in white glowing life as the enchanter continued to chant. An ethereal scream escaped the cat goddess's mouth as she faded from sight.

The sorcerer stood and the symbols faded. The urn, in the center of the circle, glowed slightly. A hum filled the room. The sound of wings beat softly in a shadowed corner. Two figures approached the queen and her sorcerer. The queen swept sand onto the circle of fire and entered its perimeter. She glided to the urn and, still smiling, lifted it from the floor. The eyes on the cat-shaped lid glowed green and she could almost feel the anger of the goddess within. The Outsiders did not approach too closely to the flames. Their eyes were nearly dead of emotion, but they watched the queen as she held her prize.

The queen walked back to her enchanter and away from the two figures. She traced the lines of the urn with a sensual touch. As the taller of the figures approached the dark and strong man, a growl and hiss emitted from the urn. The eyes on the cat glowed red. Ahmose laughed out loud at the display of aggression from her captive.

"Do you think that I would hand over such a prize?" She challenged the two newcomers. "Do you think I fear your master?"

The smaller of the two angels looked briefly at his brother. A brief flash of his unhappiness flickered across his pale face. His blue eyes widened for a fraction of a moment, but the queen knew he was worried. This made the queen laugh again in glee at having made these creatures uncomfortable.

"You will give her to us" said the larger of the two. His voice boomed in the small room despite the fact he did not raise it above a conversational tone. The smaller of the two went forward and reached out his hands for the urn. The queen regarded the creature with amusement. She lifted the urn closer to her bosom and away from the outstretched hands of the angel. The growl became a low-reverberating sound that continued until the figures disappeared from the throne chamber.

The queen turned and dismissed the waiting servant of Apep. She walked to the hallway that led to her chambers. She caressed the urn. Now, you will not stop the plans of my King and my God, Apep. The children will fall into the river and our power will be consolidated. She hugged the urn to her tightly. The hissing and growling continued.

Chapter 1- Sonoma County, California NOW

Dean Winchester laid waiting for his brother on the hood of the black impala parked under the shade of a large oak tree in Buellton, California. Sam was picking up some supplies so that they could head out on the road again. Despite the relatively easy job of ridding a local winery of its poltergeist, Dean had been having difficulty getting enough rest at night. He wanted to get back out on the road, but he knew he really could use a little time. To tell the truth, though, he really hadn't ever gotten a really restful night's sleep for over a year. He had to admit that his dreams were getting more vivid and disturbing since he found out that Sam had lost his soul. He was having trouble falling and staying asleep since Death got it back for Sam. He lay awake at night pondering the riddle of what Death had told him.

The creak of the impala's trunk opening signaled to Dean that his brother had returned. Sam stocked the trunk with bags of salt and some odds and ends they would need for the hunt. Dean hopped down from the hood.

"Did you get lunch?" he asked.

Sam looked at his brother with disgust. "Dude! We JUST ate!"

"So…" Dean replied. Giving Sam a hard time was one of the few delights in which Dean continued to indulge. Dean was never really as hungry as he pretended to be, though he could always eat. Sam gave him a skeptical look. Dean looked at him with a blank poker face. Dean could mask his true feeling pretty well and Sam wasn't always sure when Dean was bluffing.

"We can get something from the window on our way outta town." Sam responded. Dean hid a crooked smile and looked up at his younger brother. Sam was worried about Dean. His furrowed brow must have signaled to Dean how he was feeling. Dean decided he didn't want to play anymore.

Sam knew his brother's rapid changes in mood were connected to his feelings of responsibility that he held for Sam since they were very small. Those feelings of responsibility were intensified by the constant reminders given him growing up with his ex-Marine Dad. Huh. Ex-Marine… John Winchester was a Marine until he died. He drilled his sons every day of their lives as if they were members of an elite force and John Winchester was their drill sergeant. Military discipline with their Dad coupled with the lifestyle of Hunters they lived, was more than Sam could willing take. He left to go to school at Stanford and he thought he might have had a chance at a "normal" life. Dean played the dedicated soldier and dutiful son, following orders even when they made no Earthly sense. At least, they never did to Sam. He had an analytical mind and he tended to question everything. That was why he and his Dad butt heads so frequently. You can't be a good soldier if you go around questioning orders. Sadly, that seemed like centuries ago. Maybe, it was centuries ago. He still didn't really know how long he spent in the pit.

So much had happened since he was a student. Not the least was the death of the woman he thought he could spend the rest of his life making happy. He saw such a future back then. He thought he could forget the craziness of his family and leave Hunting far behind him. Since then, he had been disabused of that fantasy over and over again. Demon blood addiction, finding that he had a Big-D Destiny, becoming the vessel for Lucifer, losing his soul... He may have thought his life could be fodder for some demented soap opera instead of just another Friday night!

Sam looked at Dean as he continued to brood. It had probably been the same for him, Sam thought. He thought the apocalypse was over and his brother was lost to him. He went to live a normal life with Lisa and Ben. They could have been his family. They could have been happy. Since Sam got his soul back, he had been feeling particularly remorseful for having been the catalyst for Dean returning to the Hunter lifestyle… Or for leaving it in the first place. Maybe it would have been better for Dean to have continued Hunting, even after Sam had been lost to him. He may have been happy with Lisa, but Sam knew his brother was a great hunter and he did actually enjoy the work from time to time. He couldn't remember the last time Dean had really enjoyed anything more than he did living with Lisa. He recalled the numerous times he caught Dean smiling at something Lisa had said on their phone conversation or when he spoke to Ben. Sam believed that Dean must have enjoyed being a dad. He thought his brother was probably better at being a dad then their own dad was. Sam recalled the times growing up when Dean was more parent to Sam than John Winchester. This was all speculation anyway. Dean was not about to talk about it with Sam.

"Nah. Let's just get outta here." Dean turned to the impala's driver's door to open it. There on the roof near the driver's door was a cream-colored cat with orange markings. "HEY!" he yelled. "Get outta here."

The cat regarded him stoically and remained immobile. Dean approached the feline and reached out to remove the trespasser physically. The cat jumped down and ran across the street. Dean quickly opened the door and stood up on the running board to check the roof paint for scratches. "Damn cat" he muttered.

Sam grinned at his brother as he opened the passenger door and slid into shotgun. Dean stepped down, still muttering under his breath and slid into the driver's seat. He was about to turn the key. Sam leaned back as Dean sat with his hands on the steering wheel. "Are we headed north to Salem, or did you want to hit Bobby's for a bit?"

Sam considered it for a moment. Both places were going to be damn cold this early in January. Being in California could almost make you forget it was winter everywhere else. This part of California had even had a string of days where 80 degrees was typical. It got cold at night, but the days were great. "Are there any more jobs we can do here in Cali?" Sam asked.

Sam turned to regard his brother who was still seemed upset about the cat on the roof. Dean considered it for a minute and looked across the street at the cat that he had just run off. "Well, there may be something…" he began and pulled a print-out of a police bulletins and a tabloid article about some lady's cat running into a burning house and leading firefighters to a two-year old girl. Dean had really had missed this part of Sam when his brother went around town without a soul for over a year. He wouldn't tell Sam that though.

"Okay," he prefaced and closed his eyes for a moment. What he was about to say, he knew sounded odd even to him. "So, there is this thing where cats are acting really weird in a town not too far from here… closer to Santa Barbara. Apparently, there was this break in at a ranch nearby that happened to be owned by a certain famous pop star that collected crazy things. After the break in, the family said only one thing was stolen- A museum piece that was in the shape of a cat. Why do rich people buy crap like this?" Dean handed his brother a piece of paper with an insurance shot of an Egyptian urn. "Then, the animal control and the tabloids get all these calls from people in the neighborhood and spreading out from the ranch stating that cats have all of a sudden gone… strange."

"Strange how?" Sam asked while looking down at the different print-outs. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. Sam looked up at his brother. "Spit it out." Sam said.

"They made them stronger, smarter, better…" Dean smirked. "There have been a few reports where they behave all heroic saving people's lives- usually kids and women. One tells of a fire the cat rushes in to show the fire fighter where the kid is." He handed Sam the tabloid article. "Another story says a lady in hospice miraculously gets better after being poisoned. She says her cat cured her. But, here's where there have been a couple deaths, too." He looked over at Sam. "One has a report of this guy getting beat down by a woman who has glowing yellow eyes and turns into a lion."

Sam really did want to stay in Cali. "Well, let's go see if we can get in to the ranch…" he said with a grin. "Always did want to see the zoo and stuff there."

Then Dean sighed and smiled. He turned the key and the impala roared to life. They headed out on the 101. It was more like the back roads the brothers were used to rather than the freeways that seemed to criss-cross California. Truth was, this was much more Sam's speed. There were few cars on the highway and they moved at a good speed. The music was loud; the way Dean liked it when he really didn't want to talk. Sam was about to ask Dean if he had heard from Lisa when the impala shuddered. Both brothers looked at the front of the car as if they could see the engine through the hood. Dean pulled the car off the 101 and onto Cat Canyon Road. There were low hills covered with yellowing grass, scrub brush and short trees. The impala continued to cough inexplicably.

"Oh, Baby. Hold on." Dean pulled over and off the road near the highway. They got out of the car and went to open the hood. Sam held his cell in his hand and looked at Dean. "No cell reception. " He told his older brother.

Their eyes met but as Dean looked up at the highway and saw cars whizzing by, he thought it could only be car trouble and nothing supernatural. The look on Dean's face told Sam that this was just "one more thing". "One more thing" that seemed to pile high on his account of "one more things". Dean started walking up the lonely two lane road in a huff.

"Dean? Where're you goin'?"

Dean didn't respond or even turn back, but he did stop. He just stood there on the dirt shoulder, his head in his hand and his posture rigid and bent. He was so tired and frustration began to build. He kicked at the dirt and turned shaking his head in frustration. Even from this distance, Sam could hear Dean cursing and muttering under his breath. Sam could almost see the storm clouds over Dean's head as if he was a cartoon figure. Sam turned to the car and lifted the hood. He knew that Dean had not been getting a whole lot of sleep lately. He began looking over the engine trying to troubleshoot the problem as Dean approached.

Sam knew his rapid change of mood may have been because he needed some sleep, more than anything. It could also be another in a series of self-inflicted punishment for what his brother thought of as a failure to protect Sam. He still felt that residual over-protection of a big brother. Sam thought he was beginning to be seen as a partner, an equal in the family business prior to the whole Lucifer thing. It might have worked out that way, had he not dove into Lucifer's cage over a year ago. Dean could fix any trouble with the car with hands broken and blindfolded, but he couldn't repair what happened to Sam. It didn't stop him from killing himself trying, though.

Sam stepped over slightly. Dean leaned his back against the front of the car his head turned back toward the way they had just come. They could go back to Buellton. He could get some rest and work on the car. Damn. Why did he have to even think about taking the time off? Sam continued to check the engine for obvious trouble, but kept glancing at his older brother covertly.

Up on the highway, the roar of a throaty engine and the blasting radio playing "Free bird" slowed to Cat Canyon Road and turned. Dean was facing the highway so he was watching as the bright green new model Camaro turned. It was flashy with limo-tinted windows and black racing stripe down the center. What caught Dean's eye the most was the personalized license plate: "DMNHNTR". The Camaro slowed and Sam turned toward the sounds even as Dean watched the car approach. They both saw the driver as the car grew nearer. The passenger side windows came down in a slow whir. Wow.

"You guys need a ride?" she asked. Ah, man. She had bright emerald eyes the brothers could see even in the shade of the car's interior. She had short black hair and caramel colored skin. She wore a green tank top with "Girls Rock" painted across it in silver and cut-off jeans. Only in California was that appropriate winter-wear for January! Dean smiled a welcoming grin as he appreciated the lovely woman in the very green car.

He looked inside the front and realized there was really only room for one passenger. Where the back seat was, should have been, was filled partly with speakers and partly with a nitrous system. He turned to his brother, his grin growing broader. Yeah, you can give me a ride. "Hey, Sam, I'll be back with a truck." Sam gave his brother a look that told Dean "You've gotta be kidding me"! With a flash of mischief, Dean opened the Camaro's door and he slid into the black leather bucket seat. The front panel of the car looked custom and resembled a cockpit of a plane rather than a car dashboard. "I'm Dean." He told the driver.

The woman looked at Dean and grinned. "Uh-huh." She said. She shifted the car into first and turned the wheel back toward Buellton. The music had shifted to Black Dog by Led Zeppelin and it blasted from the front speakers as well as the back. There was no chance for talking with the woman but she kept looking at him as if sizing him up. It didn't take long before they pulled into a service station in Buellton. The woman turned down the music long enough to look at Dean and said, "Look, Dean… You need to find the fun. Lighten up!"

Dean looked at her with confusion, but then laughed. "Okay, id-girl. You don't really know me. I know how to have fun."

She grinned. "Not as much as I'd like." She moved closer to him and her face was close enough to his that he could smell the slightly peppermint of her breath and the spicy fragrance of her perfume. Her eyes were lidded slightly and her lips were so close. Dean found that he had trouble breathing normally and he had to shift the way he was sitting to make it a little less uncomfortable. She pulled herself back from him with a smile on her slightly parted lips. "Were you going to get a truck to bring the car back?" she asked.

Dean shrugged. "Nah. I don't trust anyone else working on my car." He looked at her sideways.

Her eyes widened and she laughed. "Well…" she managed. Her hand reached up to caress the back of Dean's neck and he shivered. The silver bracelet on her wrist on the side of his neck was cold, but her hand was warm. He turned toward her again. He could see burn scars under the bracelet. He looked her up and down. She was well-muscled and her hands were strong but decidedly feminine. He made out the grip of a sawed-off shotgun to her right, under her seat "So, what's your name?" he asked. She grinned again in response.

"Do you ever remember their names?" she asked.

"Whose?"

Her eyebrow quirked upward and she looked at him through her eyelashes. Oh, she was too much. He had to laugh at that, but instead of answering her question asked one of his own. "So, what does your license plate mean?"

"You don't know?" she asked, her eyes suddenly serious and the pupils widened. There was no sign of the smile she had on her face before.

He returned her gaze, "Do you?" It was then he looked again at her bracelets. There was a fine etching of runes on the surface. The runes, he recognized, were Enochian. She had a pentagram on the shift knob. There was a talisman of some kind hanging from her keychain. "Okay, you're a hunter."

"Of a sort" She responded. Her body relaxed and her eyes became less intent.

He looked around the cabin of the custom car and asked her, "You workin' a job?"

She turned back to face forward. "Kinda."

He looked askance at her but decided she was unlikely to share. He heard the growl of an engine approaching the Camaro. Turning, he saw the impala drive up beside the passenger side door. Sam looked at him through the window. "Well, thanks for the ride." He opened the door and started to shift out of the car. The green-eyed woman put her hand on Dean's. "Stick around, Winchester."

That got his attention. "I didn't tell you my name was Winchester." His eyes narrowed at her as he kept one leg outside of the Camaro and his body tensed in anticipation of anything. The woman brought her other hand around with a business card in it. Dean noticed a matching bracelet to the one on her right arm, complete with matching burn scars underneath. He took the card with his right hand and read the name of an address near Santa Barbara. She let go of his hand and waited for him to leave her car. When he was standing next to the Camaro and closed the door, she drove off.

That was weird… and a little disturbing.

Sam slid across the impala to sit in the passenger seat and Dean got into the driver's. He sat in the car, thinking about the encounter. He was staring at the steering wheel and Sam asked him what happened. Sam looked at Dean and waited. What was that all about?

"Crap!" Dean exclaimed finally. He put the car in drive and gunned it down the road toward Santa Barbara. During the trip, he filled Sam in on what happened. Sam was as perplexed by the events as was Dean.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two- Free at Last

Bast was unable to see or hear in her prison, but she could tell she remained in Egypt. She sensed the questions her captor had as well as what passed for fear, curiosity, wonder, delight. They believed she was an artifact, a decoration. She _was_ a weapon; one forged by her creator to protect her family and destroy their enemies. She often appeared frivolous and playful to her brothers and sisters, but her creator knew what power she could wield. And what patience she possessed.

She could wait. She knew how. But, in the meantime, her father and the rest of her family were without her protection. She could tell there had been shifts in power several times during her incarceration. She could often feel the presence of the humans and otherworldly beings as they passed close to her prison.

Then, she felt another. She knew it was a celestial being. She had hoped it was a family member, but sensed differences in the level of power in the creature. She could sense that there was something different about him. Maybe she could influence him subtly.

She calmed the anger and frustration that she felt since she was first tricked. She could tell he was there with her now and he was alone. She put all the sensual pleasure and curiosity she could emote and pushed power through her bonds. When she attempted to use Power, however, she was struck with excruciating pain. She could tell that he could feel her presence in the form of those emotions. She sensed interest and amusement from him. In addition, Bast sensed the rebellion in him. She could feel the mischief and whimsy. His presence left, but she knew she had the scent of him now. Yes, she had patience and she could wait.

Her disembodied form curled around inside the urn. Occasionally, she would sense flickers of power from outside her prison. She strained the limits of her prison to determine what was happening. Her range was very limited, and the exertion of power was painful. She waited.

Then, bright lights and chaos! There were fountains of sensation she could feel all around her! She reveled in it. It was exciting and she was alert for the first time since becoming imprisoned. She wondered what could have happened to cause such a change in her captors. Perhaps her family was coming for her! She strained to detect order from chaos. It filled her with anticipation and wonder. _I think I'm back in the mortal realm!_ Would the creatures from the Host have brought her here? She thought not. They were all about Order. She was comfortable with the Humans because she enjoyed the chaos of them. She was always surprised by what they were capable of doing- for good or ill.

No, she thought she was with a member of the Host, but not any she thought she had felt before. What could have happened? Then, she realized. It was the same angel as before, but his presence was so changed, she barely recognized him. She could almost hear him crooning to her. He spoke in soft tones and promised she would be free again. He bargained and pleaded with her to wait, to be patient. He muttered to her from time to time, but she could only catch the edges of his sending. She sent power and tried to assure him that she was his friend. She sent curiosity and promises of a future partnership. She had been patient and she wanted out. She was waiting, waiting, waiting.

Then he was gone. It must have been for a long stretch of time, because she could not really remember the feel of him. She wondered if he left her. She thought to herself how she had planned on betraying him, turning on him if he allowed her out of her prison. But, now, she wanted him to come back. She would have given up that course of action just for him to speak to her, send a tendril of sensation to her. It was dark and she had no sense of anything outside. She could not be certain of time here. She had no true idea of the passage of events or seasons. Then, after what felt to her like an eternity, she detected the angel back to take possession of her urn. She did not like the emotions or ambitions she sensed from him. She growled low in the bottom of the urn. He was covetous and angry. He did not seem to have the power he had before, but she sensed that he would do anything for his own gain. This was unlike any but one of the Host's creatures she thought she knew.

LIGHT! FREEDOM!

She was loose! She formed an image of how she would manifest and felt the power course through her to form that image in flesh. She also felt the white hot pain on her wrists. She submerged the pain behind the rage and let those feelings fuel her power. She became a lioness and emerged from the urn battle-ready. She looked around her. She was in a circle of Power and she still wore the Enochian bracelets in this form. She looked at the bright blue eyes of an angel. He was tall with sandy blonde hair and dressed in such clothing Bast had never seen before. Her surroundings were so foreign she spent quite a few moments to determine to what sort of place she had been brought.

The angel's silky voice from outside the circle spoke. "Nice Kitty…" He crooned, "Welcome back to the mortal world, Eye of Ra."

=000000=

Sam and Dean Winchester pulled the black Impala into the shiny suburban neighborhood, which looked like it had been built in the fifties. They approached a single story apartment complex of maybe a dozen units. The impala pulled next to the green Camaro as the mysterious fellow hunter was getting out. She grinned at the brothers, nodded her head to the corner apartment and walked toward the door to unlock it. She held the door for them as they approached her.

When Sam and Dean entered, they saw a paper trail taped to the walls of the very small single room apartment. There were ancient writings on papyrus as well as computer print-outs everywhere. It looked so much like how the boys would work their hunt; they relaxed a little and began to look over the trail. Or rather, Sam did. Dean kept his eyes on open and watched the woman in front of him with caution. There were few pieces of furniture in the Spartan one room. There was a large bed, two upholstered chairs and a chest of drawers. There were dairy crates turned on their sides which housed stacks and stacks of books. There was a small table and two wooden chairs near a counter that held a microwave, coffee maker, a small dorm-sized refrigerator and a toaster oven. She moved to the bed, slid to the middle to sit cross-legged and watch the two men waiting to have their attention.

"You want to tell us what's going on?" Dean demanded after a few moments. Sam turned to face the woman on the bed and she grinned.

"I am looking for a demon." She began. She moved from her place quickly and with the grace of a dancer as she rose to stand next to Sam in a fluid movement. She pointed to the papyrus and translated for them. "This is an account of the sorcerer and follower of Apep who ultimately ended up causing the death of Queen Ahmose." She paused to see if they would argue with her. The Winchesters looked skeptical but waited for her to continue. "He was said to have been 200 years old when he died, or rather, was killed."

She stood staring at some of the pictures, drawings and texts pasted to her walls. She shook herself from her reverie to find the men looking at her with the bored expressions of poker players at the table. She grinned. "You guys wanna have a little fun and help me kill this evil son of a bitch?"

Dean wasn't buying it.

"I'm not buying it." He exclaimed. "Listen lady, we don't know you. You won't tell us your name. You just _conveniently_ show up when my car _mysteriously_ shuts down on the side of the road. You are _conveniently_ a Hunter and need help… our help, on a demon hunt. How did you know who we are? And how the hell does a hunter earn enough coin to drive around in a tricked out Camaro?" Dean walked a few steps to stand right in front of her. He grabbed her wrist at the bracelet and lifted it up. "And can you explain why silver burns your skin?"

The woman grimaced and sucked breath through her teeth when Dean grabbed her arm. She steeled her expression. Sam caught the pain and anger on her face and moved closer to Dean. "What are you doing?" he whispered to his brother.

"I am just really tired of the supernatural sons of bitches in this world taking us for a ride, using us as pieces in their own little private games!" He came very close to the woman's face then. "Tell me what the Hell is going on." He squeezed her wrist to emphasize his point "Now!"

Sam approached her and took the wrist Dean held. Dean released her, but still fumed. Sam examined the bracelets. He was looking at the symbols on her bracelet. The woman remained quite still and allowed his scrutiny without comment.

"Dean, this isn't silver." Sam looked into the pools of green as he and this woman locked eyes. "These are angelic runes and this is angelic steel."

She confirmed Sam's assessment by nodding. Sam released her wrist. "Okay," he said. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"

She pointed to the papers on the walls. "I have been following this particular demon for a while now. His human past traces back before the reign of Cleopatra VII, during which time he devoted himself to Apep, the Serpent." She walked to the lines of papers on the wall and her eyes became hard and she clenched her teeth. She murmured barely audible as she recounted her search for the sorcerer and how he had become a demon. "The sorcerer believed he had been granted eternal life. And in a way he had been. His soul was sold a long time before his death. He is… was, when he was human, an agent of chaos but did nothing for anyone but himself. He caused madness in the People of the Nile," she paused. She looked at the men watching her. Dean continued to fume and Sam looked at her in interest. "I will not speak his name…" her eyes lowered, "Or mine. He can pluck it from the air and find me. He knows I am hunting him and… and he listens. He has eluded me since I… began chasing him here." She looked at Sam, "He is here, Antef. He often has the ear of the powerful and divides Peoples. He was in Arizona for a while. I was so close to him." She clenched her fists in front of her, and then turned to Dean. "He came here to start again. He will turn the People against each other. He will scapegoat and point a finger at those who are different. He will lay the blame of all the world's ills at the feet of the poor and unprotected… and he will encourage your leaders to rise against them. Will they have a protector?"

"We don't involve ourselves in politics," Dean stated. "You didn't answer my questions."

"I did nothing to your car, Dean. It wasn't coincidence, but I can tell you, I did nothing to the car." She turned to hide a grin. She went to sit on the bed again. Sam sat in the padded chair near the door facing her. "I am called Kat… though I have already said, that's not my name. I _am_ a Hunter, Dean. I have been for a very long time and I really don't like this demon. He is subtle, which is not exactly a demon strong suit. He learned at the feet of the most horrible creatures in Hell and he is… was a sorcerer." She held up her wrists. The red scars beneath the silvery bracelets were burns as well as scratch lines. "He did this to me. He placed these on me to prevent me from killing him. He limits my ability to… do my job. I want your help." She hesitated a moment and continued, "Of course I know who you are. Who doesn't know of the Winchesters?" A slow smile grew on her face. "As to how I earn coin… I can show you that, too"

It was growing dark as the two cars approached the abandoned airstrip. It had been a private airfield of the rich and corrupt for a long time, now it was filled with land jets in the form of modern day muscle cars, import scene, doorlammers, dragsters, and custom builds. Music blasted from everywhere, but was drowned out by the blare of engines screaming in the night and an occasional blowout or burn out. The impala followed the Camaro to a section of the field where classic vehicles, modern muscle cars and suped-up Hondas lined a curved taxi runway. There were young men of many nationalities next to vehicles and watching the new-comers as they approached. Sam and Dean emerged from the impala after parking next to the Camaro. They looked around and attempted to appear confident and as if they truly belonged. There were some curious looks at them and their black car wondering, probably if they were seeing a sleeper. The expressions of interest turned to dismay or disdain when they recognized their companion.

Kat walked toward the Winchesters with a broad grin on her face. She was as tall as Dean and wore dark jeans, an emerald t-shirt, leather boots and leather jacket. The three stood in front of their cars for a moment before they heard an angry voice above the engine noise and blaring music. "What in the hell are you doing back here?"

The three turned to watch a very large and muscled man with dark brown skin and black hair approaching behind a short, stocky Asian-looking man. The shorter of the two addressed Kat as he approached. "We had a deal!" He exclaimed with clenched teeth and a grimace. She continued to grin at the man and greeted his companion. "Paco? Hey, Chaparron! You still working for this loser?"

Paco shrugged and smiled, "It pays the bills." He replied.

Kat turned her attention to the shorter man. She reached out her hand to touch her fingertips to the shorter man's chest. She drew her touch down his shirt to let her hand drop, but moved to lean forward in his space. "Adam, I have a proposition for you." She cooed. "First, though, I want to introduce some friends of mine. This is Antef Johnson," she gestured to Sam "and his brother, Mike." The boys looked at each other but said nothing to contradict her.

Adam didn't even seem to have acknowledged the introduction, and continued to glare at the woman in front of him. Kat sighed and rolled her eyes. Sam thought, with her choice of outfit and her mannerisms, she reminded him of his older brother in many ways. He had to grin at the idea.

"What proposition, Kat?" He asked.

"I know you like making money, Adam. I want to help you make money. You can hire me as a shoe tonight. I will drive yours or mine. What do you think?" Adam's body language and expression relaxed and lit up. "Pinks?" She considered his request. She looked behind her. The Winchesters scanning the lines of cars, some of which looked like they had been dressed up for a fashion show. She imagined her green Camaro on that line. She shrugged. She came for the fun. "Yup." She said shortly. "You drive yours." He turned and walked back the way he had come. She could see the dollar signs being calculated in Adam's expression. She turned slightly to see she was being approached by the Winchesters. Dean leaned in to her.

They were eye to eye and very close. "This is about having a little fun, Dean." She said as she noticed his expression. She went on. "Sam needs to hang out around here with the book maker. You should come in the car with me. I am gonna run a race for Adam there. He's gonna pay us because we are gonna earn him some pink slips tonight. Then, we are going to go and have drinks." She turned away from him and caught up to Adam and his enforcer. Dean just stood there watching her when Sam caught up to him.

He didn't like it. He felt like he was being toyed with, again. He wanted to know more about this woman. He wasn't sure if she was supernatural or not, but he wanted to know more before he confronted her again. He didn't feel like walking blind into this, and he wanted to know what the endgame would be. This job was getting on his nerves. He just wanted a little time off; maybe relax a little, figure stuff out. He didn't want to take orders from little Miss California-girl. He had to admit though. This place was pretty cool. And she said her car was very fast. Maybe it would be fun. It had been a long time since he was even in the same zip code with fun.

Kat loved the smells of fuel—gasoline, alcohol or super gas- hot rubber and the sounds of engines revving hot on a track. It was the adrenaline and anticipation. Her senses were hyperaware. She didn't really care how well she did in ¼ mile tracks; this was the payoff for her. This was how she got the Camaro in the first place. She hardly ever raced for pinks, just cash. But, when she saw how she could win the green hot rod, she went all in. She looked back at Dean. He was an adrenaline junkie, too, she thought. He has just forgotten. He should use this opportunity to use the skills and heightened awareness of the Hunter for the pleasure of it. She turned to see him and his brother standing near one of Adam's mechanics.

She started to bounce on the balls of her feet. She was barely paying attention to the instructions Adam was trying to deliver to her. He takes himself so seriously, she thought. "Lighten up, Andretti. I know what I'm supposed to do. Just make sure you cough up 10% of the take." She dropped her amicable façade and stepped right up to Adam. Her eyes bored into his. "No cheating, Adam. I will know if you do." The large enforcer stood watching and Adam cast glances at him as if to inquire if he was going to let her speak to him in this way. Apparently, he was. She smiled up at Paco. Hmm. She eyed him more speculatively. Maybe drinks won't be the only way to celebrate after winning a couple of races.

"You're one to talk," He replied. She eyed him with a grin, a sparkle in her eye as she winked and turned.

She went back to the brothers and tossed Dean the keys to Camaro. The keychain had only the one key on it as well as a cartouche and a metallic Baby Phat cat logo. Dean and Sam hurried to catch up to her. "Go get the Camaro and we'll go pre-stage, " She grinned broadly at him. He scowled at her, but she could see it. He was excited, too. Sam was worried, but Dean was ready for fun. His pupils were large and she could see his pulse at his neck was fast. She turned to Sam and grabbed his elbow, steering him to a skinny pockmarked man collecting bills nearby. She knew him as Axel. She also knew it wasn't his actual name. He really liked Guns n' Roses. He also really likes cars. He thought Axel was better than Roger, she supposed.

"Axe, this is my very good friend, Antef. He's gonna hang out with you while I work, yeah." She didn't smile at all at this exchange. She disliked Adam's bookmaker. She saw a metaphorical snake behind everything he said and did. She could see Sam wasn't happy about this. "Sam, would you just hang out here and watch? I know you're not happy, but I will make it up to you."

He wasn't happy that this woman shows up in their lives and takes them around so fast they had no chance to catch their breath and process. She wasn't forcing them to do anything, and nothing they did was anything they would necessarily object to. He just wanted to know what the hell she was doing and why she was doing it! She looked up at him and stood up on tipped toes. She kissed him on the lips, turned and walked back to his brother. What the hell?

Dean watched the exchange with no little apprehension. Kat was essentially splitting the brothers up. He wasn't having any part of them being separated. He knew he couldn't trust her. He didn't want her exposing Sam to danger alone and he certainly didn't want her calling the shots! He set his jaw and lifted his chin in belligerence.

Kat saw it immediately. Oh, here we go. She knew he was going to scrap with her for control and top-dog status. She changed her posture and as she approached, took a more submissive stance. He registered sub-consciously the switch in roles and his stance relaxed marginally. She slowed down her approach to him. She looked up at him through eyelashes and drew her chin down to mirror an opposite message from what he was sending. She made him the leader without saying a word.

She suppressed a grin. When she was close enough to him to touch, she lifted her face to his and kissed him, reached up and stroked the back of his neck. He stiffened slightly in surprise but then she felt his hand on her waist. "You do want to have fun, don't you?" she asked quietly with a catch in her voice. He hedged briefly, then the grin he flashed her answered for him. She took his hand tentatively and she waited for him to turn. She let him lead them back to the car. "What about…" He looked toward his precious impala.

"Your car is safe." She assured him. She walked to the car and drew a symbol with her finger in the dust of the hood. He didn't quite see what it was, and there was a glint from her bracelets that briefly looked unnatural. She turned back to him from the other side of the green car. She got in the passenger seat gingerly rubbing her arms.

He got in and turned the key to bring the Camaro to life. He knew she had modified this car. There was no back seat and the sound system was impressive. She had opened up the hood for him at the apartment. He looked down at what must have been jet engine tech. He didn't even recognize some of the key components of the engine. He wondered if she did. He looked at her and noticed her eyes were shut and she was still holding her arm. "You okay?" he asked her. Kat looked at him with those beautiful green eyes. He could almost forget his suspicions that she might not be human. Almost.

She grinned at him and told him to get it in gear. They moved through the makeshift streets to stage the car. There was a Christmas Tree up on scaffolds that would start the racers. Dean supposed no one like the idea of flagging between two of these mods the way they did in old James Dean movies. He moved the car to pre-stage and he reveled in the way the vibrations of the powerful engine felt through the floor and through the steering wheel. He felt as though he were just holding back raw power with his bare hands. He felt the familiar sense of being watched and looked at the woman in the next seat. She was watching him. She looked like she knew exactly what he was thinking. He guessed she must, since she seemed to do this quite a bit. They got out and the fire drill change of drivers happened quickly.

They buckled in and Kat reached behind her to get a hat and handed it to Dean. He looked at it but didn't take it from her. "I only have the one helmet, Dean. This isn't exactly a sanctioned NHRA event, but you should have some protection besides your thick skull." Dean declined with the simple expedient of throwing it back where she found it. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Here then." She said in a near whisper. She looked at him and pulled a chain from her pocket. At the end, he saw a cartouche like the one on her keychain. She slipped it around his neck and kissed him softly on his cheek. "Just in case." She said with a smile.

Kat turned back to watch a purple Dodge Charger roll into place next to Dean. Kat was smiling when Dean looked at her. She reached over to prep the juice and set the car to burnout, warming the tires. She refused to line the car to Stage it. She kept jumping into another burnout as the purple car approached the staging. She could see the frustration and annoyance play on the Charger's shoe. Once Kat moved the car and the light went amber, she was all business. The tree lit up and she goose egged the start to pull into the front. By the time she hit the speed trap she had left the Charger well behind. This was why Adam didn't like her there. She could holeshot consistently with all zeroes in her reaction to the tree. This is why he agreed to let her race.

It was worth the adrenaline boost to do it for pinks. Dean, even though he grabbed hold of the "Oh Shit" handles and leaned back into the bucket sheet, was smiling and sweating. She knew he felt it, too. His breathing got under control again by the time the cars hit the shutdown area. She turned the car to head back to the staging area. She was watching for the guy with the times. Quarter mile in 4 and the Charger must have blown something because he didn't come close to his dial-in.

Sam got the impression very quickly that the bookmaker Adam employed was skimming. He would speak quickly and change rates and odds based on who he was speaking to. He cast glances at Sam from time to time, probably to see if Sam was keeping track. When he didn't say anything, Axel continued to make books.

"Hello, Sam." He heard an accented voice from next to him. He turned to find Balthazar standing at his elbow. "This is a new experience for you, I'd wager, but not at the rates that one is keeping." Sam looked all around him. He didn't see any other angels or fighting or anything really outside what he thought was normal. Balthazar was relaxed and amused. That didn't bode well for the Winchester boys. "What are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"Oh, you know me," Balthazar said with his silky voice, "Just checking in with you. You had such a problem last time we met. How did that turn out for you?" Sam looked at the angel and blushed slightly but schooled his expression into hard stone. He wasn't going to play this little game with the angel. Dean was right. In fact, they were both tired of being played by these dicks. Sam looked like he was going to ignore the angel, so Balthazar continued to goad him. "So, dear brother managed to cheat at cards and shove that pesky soul back down into you." Sam looked around again. He did not want this conversation to be over-heard. He really did not want to even talk about it.

He was ashamed that the last time he had seen Balthazar; he had been summoned by then-soulless Sam. The angel had told him how to corrupt his vessel to prevent the soul from taking purchase inside him again. Sam had worried that his soul would be so damaged, he wouldn't be able to cope with the torture Lucifer and Michael may have inflicted upon it. Balthazar had told him that if he committed patricide, he could prevent it from happening. He would have to kill the closest thing to having a dad outside of John Winchester he had ever known. He would have had to kill Bobby Singer. Luckily, his brother had stopped that from happening, but he also succeeded in getting Death to go rescue the soul from the cage holding the archangels in hell and shove it back inside its vessel. Sam was relieved to find that he didn't remember all that had happened. He was sure he didn't want to know all that happened after throwing himself and his brother Adam into the pit consequently trapping Lucifer and Michael and ending the apocalypse. Except that he was there, in that cemetery, very soon after, minus his soul.

"Where is that big brother of yours, Sam?" Balthazar inquired. He scanned the crowds around him. There had to be hundreds of people here. He scanned the line of cars and spotted the Impala. He focused his search to the area around the black car that was precious to Dean. Sam watched him briefly before he grabbed the angel by the front of his colorless shirt and threw him up against the side of scaffold mount and pushed his face very close to Balthazar's. "You don't need to worry about Dean, Balthazar. We are tired of turning around and finding one of you standing around trying to yank us into whatever terminally effed-up crap you and your family are dealing with. Go back to your daddy and leave us alone!" He released the angel when he noticed that several people who stood around Axel had stopped what they were doing to watch the two. Some had hands near the waistbands of their pants, probably near a gun or other weapon. He pushed Balthazar away from him who straightened his shirt and smoothed his hands over his front. He looked at Sam who continued to glare at him with barely contained rage.

"It's really too bad you feel that way about it, Sammy. See, I came here to see you because I had been thinking of your little situation since last we met. I feel just awful for you and I may have a solution for your dilemma. You understand? I know that the, eh-hemm, 'wall' is only temporary. But, there may be a solution that will be more permanent… I may have a way to heal the injuries to…" he glanced around at the people still pretty close and able to over-hear their conversation, "… to the part of you that is so badly damaged. You could be whole without any… problem." He watched as Sam's expression turned from anger to speculative. _Here fishy fishy… take the nice bait._

"I don't think I want to trust you, again, Balthazar. Every time we take up a deal with the supernatural, Dean and I get completely screwed. I am not interested in setting either of us up for that kind of thing again." Sam turned his back to the angel and watched the strip as the next cars were staging their cars. When he glanced back over his shoulder, he saw that Balthazar was gone. He couldn't stop thinking of the words, though. _There may be a solution that will be more permanent._

Racing for pinks is really very rare. Most driver/owners don't want to risk anything they aren't willing to lose. Still, Kat and Dean managed to take two more cars off the hands of their much chagrined owners. The Camaro was rolling up to stage for the next, and last, race when there was a commotion to the west of the airfield. Kat recognized the signs of impending trouble as did the others that she saw were closing up shop. Well, this is when we call it quits for the night. She spun the wheel and the Camaro spun tires to whip it 180 degrees from the staging area. She had to slow down for pedestrians as they ran in all directions at once. Imports and exotics were heading down the strip already as the flashing lights became visible over at the entrance. Kat cut off a black Monte Carlo headed toward a hanger, stopping just long enough to threaten Axel with bodily harm if he didn't let Sam in the car. The Camaro and Monte Carlo burned out toward the hanger and the roll top dropped. Other cars were taking cover here as well. Dean recovered from surprise relatively quickly to ascertain what exactly was going on. They got out of the cars and walked over to an office where all the other drivers, mechs, techs, and bystanders had escaped to gather. Adam had a set expression on his face and he looked over to Kat, gesturing for her to come closer.

"Can you do anything about this?" He asked her. Kat looked out the window. She shrugged and replied,

"Let's see what happens, first."

Cars were scattering to the four winds and the sirens were coming closer when Dean looked out the window and saw his Impala still out there among the dust and debris flying in the exhaust of the fleeing racers. There were other cars there as well, but he didn't give a rat's ass about what happened to them. He wanted to know his car was going to be okay. He gripped Kat's arm tightly. She hissed softly at him but made no move to wrest her arm from his grip.

Paco approached Kat and Dean to look over their heads at the events unfolding outside. They heard the screech of wheels and crunch of metal. They heard the squeal of sirens flying past. The whoop of a police car stopping nearby was followed by the crash of a car. They witnessed an import car fly past the window… directly toward the Impala and the few cars parked next to her. Dean gasped and withdrew his hand from Kat's arm as red flames began to flare from her wrists. Kat stared ahead at the car flipping end over end. Suddenly, the car stopped in midair and lowered slowly on to what was left of the wheels. The cars parked in the lot were untouched by the devastation. Kat turned to face Dean and promptly went limp. Dean caught her in his arms and carried her out of the office, through the throng of people still staring out the window.

He carried her to her Camaro and placed her in the driver's side seat. She opened her eyes a little to look at Dean, his brother coming up behind him toward them. "Told ya, we'd have fun," she whispered; then, passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Just Another Friday

Dean sat in the front seat of the Impala surveying the damage from the surrounding cars. Not one scratch on the Impala despite the devastation all around it. Pieces of bumper leaned against the back fender, but the paint didn't register any damage at all. He just couldn't figure it; and frankly, he really wasn't about to look too closely at a gift horse. He was waiting for the other vehicles to leave the hanger so Sam could drive the Camaro out. He looked into the back seat where Kat lay recovering from… what? He wasn't sure what exactly happened.

Shortly after the Honda Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Boomed into the police car, sending it flying toward the Impala, the craziness started settling down. The police remaining near the hanger looked for evidence (not that it was hard to find) of illegal street car racing. Adam had left the hanger to speak with them. Apparently, having Christmas tree race lights and vehicles parked outside suped-up for street racing shouldn't have been probable cause. Adam, apparently, knew which palms to be greased and what words would be necessary to turn away others. He returned to the hanger and they waited until the tow trucks and flatbeds took away all the cars in the lot… except for the Impala. Again, Dean wasn't looking at that particular gift horse too closely.

Still, he just couldn't figure it. He stared at the woman's dark skin which had paled slightly before she passed out inside the hanger and the burns on her wrists. He had examined the bracelets, even tried removing them while she was unconscious to no avail. They almost seemed to be fused to her. Her breathing was soft and steady and she made small noises while she slept. Despite the receding red burns, which must have been so painful, she curled a hand under her chin as she slept and her face looked quiet and peaceful. Sam and he had ruled out witchcraft. The craft required rituals, spells and components to make it work. She had none of those things. She wasn't a demon. He sprinkled holy water and salt on her face and all it made her do was stir slightly, not in pain, but because salt and water were being sprinkled on her face. Silver didn't bother her, nor did iron. He just couldn't figure her out. He was fairly sure that she wasn't exactly "normal".

Still, he did have fun before the cavalry came rolling in. He enjoyed flying down the track. He learned a lot about the way the racing worked and why Kat was able to do so well. The feel of the car thrumming all around him and the pressure of acceleration was awesome. He hadn't had so much fun in a really long time. He wondered how she would explain herself. His eyes went back to studying the woman in his back seat. He heard the thrum of the Camaro as it approached Dean and the Impala and turned to make eye contact with his brother. He closed the door and turned the ignition. He led the way back to Kat's apartment. She never stirred or woke all the way back to the apartment. They parked in front and both brothers got out of the cars and stood next to the back door of the Impala.

Dean opened the door and lifted her out. He carried her to the door and Sam opened it with the keys he still held in his hands. Dean laid Kat on her bed and took off her boots and her jacket. He pulled the comforter up over her and then went to the refrigerator. He was surprised to see six bottles of an imported beer and a wrapped package of fish. He grabbed a bottle of the beer and raided the cabinets. He found some sandwich fixings and chips. He made some for Sam as well and they both sat at the table to eat. Dean couldn't avoid looking over at Kat on the bed. She was such a still sleeper. She didn't stretch, toss, turn, or in any other way move while she slept. He watched her and considered the enigma she represented. Dean decided to snoop through her stuff.

He looked at the titles of the books she held on the "shelves". There were titles he recognized from Bobby's "library" of books. Some were in ancient languages, foreign languages, and one looked like it was some kind of computer language. He went in to her bathroom. He knew the kinds of things he was likely to encounter in a woman's bathroom. He was accustomed to seeing some of those things having lived for a year with Lisa. He found perfumes and lotions and other typically female things. He found an urn sitting on a shelf. It was the urn he saw in the insurance photos from the pop star's ranch. He walked back into the room. He locked eyes with Sam and motioned for him to look. Sam rose and took a look. When he returned to the room, they both turned to look at the sleeping form on the bed.

"What the hell did we walk into, Sam?"

Balthazar stood outside the circle of flaming oil. The form of the powerful lioness paced the enclosure back and forth, twitching her thick tail with furious movements back and forth. Low reverberating growls continued to come from her as she surveyed her surroundings. He brought this little venture to an old barn outside wine country when he found the Urn containing the Goddess Bast. He had tracked it from Bubastis to Cairo until it ended up in private collections and museums across the globe. He finally found it here in California. It had been purchased and, apparently, nearly forgotten, by the musician who owned it. Balthazar could barely contain his excitement at having found such a potentially powerful weapon. Bast would certainly wish retribution against those people she imagined were responsible for her imprisonment. Balthazar just needed to convince her now that he was not part of it and determine if she would agree to be a weapon to his ends.

"Now, now, my darling. I recognize that you may not appreciate the way I am introducing myself to you, but look at from my perspective." He spread his hands out to his sides in a gesture to show her he was "harmless". "Say that I didn't protect myself with such precautions… You would have jumped from there and wouldn't have been willing to even here me out. I take it you have a slash first, question later attitude about… my kind?" He continued to watch as the great lioness slowed her pacing and focused her attention solely on the angel. The slight dip of her head affirmed his suspicion.

Balthazar dragged a chair across the dirt and grass strewn floor to sit in front of her. He crossed one leg over the other and reclined slightly. He pursed his lips together and considered how to begin. The lioness had stopped prowling and stood very still staring those green eyes at him. It was very disconcerting. "Do you know how much time has passed, I wonder?" He asked. The lioness blinked and averted her eyes slightly. "No, I guess not." He pulled a newspaper from inside his coat pocket. "Humans have spread over the planet, all over the planet in the…" he watched to see how the next bit would affect the creature, "nearly… four thousand years… since your… well, you know." He waved his hand over to indicate the urn. The widening of her eyes indicated she heard him. She went silent, not even twitching her tail, not a sound of the growl, not even the raspy sound of her breathing. Balthazar gave her a moment and when he saw her blink, he opened the newspaper. Pictures on the front page showed military vehicles in the Middle East. The picture had clearly shown the aftermath of explosions and soldiers armed walking the street. The green eyes surveyed the newspaper. Her nose lifted in a pose of scenting the paper. Her ears flicked forward then back. Her eyes rose to look up at the angel.

"A great many things have happened… the Apocalypse, for one. Lucifer had escaped his cage." Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "It's true! He walked the world for nearly a year. He was waiting for his true vessel to accept him for most of it, but he wrapped himself up in some meatsuit and wandered around causing all kinds of chaos. When it went down, Lucifer's vessel took control and pulled both Luci and Michael into the cage. I imagine they are there now in a Hell version of celebrity death match." He leaned back as she took that in. He saw a flame ignite on her wrists and he jumped up and away from the circle. He was fairly certain she couldn't leave the circle, but was unwilling to be within close quarters if she could. The flames diminished and there stood a woman in the center. Her skin was the color of caramel and she had shoulder-length black hair. Her eyes were the color of emeralds. He admired the shape she chose.

"You will release me, Angel." She commanded.

"Now, that's where you're wrong. You have been gone a long time and many things have changed." Balthazar leaned in closer. "The Romans came to Egypt. Ra and his family were sublimated. The worship of Bast was outlawed. Your family is gone. You have no followers. You have no purpose."

Bast paced back and forth as she had when she was in lion form. "My purpose existed long before I came to the mortals' realm..." She told him. "Ra looked at me and saw more than a warrior for the Creator. He treated me as a daughter. I had a family. I remember what that was like. But, they are not the only family I have." Her voice was soft and quiet, but the rage behind the words shone in the beryl-eyed woman's expression. She clenched and unclenched her fists and tightened her jaw. "As for worshipers… I never required their worship to fuel me with power. I continue to have a purpose." She turned and stood staring at the angel for a moment when she saw a small movement behind him. She closed her eyes and took a breath, a small smile played at the corners of her mouth. She glared at the angel. "You will release me, or I will escape and hunt… for you."

Balthazar was nervous, but tried to cover his feelings. He shrugged. "I doubt that." He replied. "I can give you what you have lost."

She turned quickly at this comment. "Could you offer me the serpent's head?" She replied. Her eyes darted to the shadows. "What is it you want from me, Balthazar?" she asked him. He grinned.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- Family Need Not Be Blood

Sam sat in the wooden chair at the table researching on his laptop. Dean had fallen asleep next to him with a book in his lap in the upholstered chair. Sam couldn't stop thinking about what Balthazar had said to him. He pondered the idea of a permanent solution to his the problem with being re-ensouled. He worried a lot of the time since he woke up with a shiny new wall in his mind to keep him from feeling the full effects of his shredded and battered soul. He was so focused on his introspection; he didn't notice the green eyes looking at him from under the comforter.

Kat had moved silently to observe the younger Winchester. She could feel Sam's independent spirit and it drew her to observe him. She saw his expression was pensive. She studied him. The shifts in his concentration between his laptop and some unknown puzzle he continued to try and piece together. She saw the fear in many of the comments he had made to his brother over the course of the day. She had watchers observing the brothers even before she actually met them. From the reports she got from those watchers, the brothers worked in concert with each other. They were a pair of highly-trained warriors. They also had connections with the Host of angels that would lead her to Raphael. She sighed.

Sam heard her sigh and looked up from the computer to make eye contact with her. She saw him tense. She saw a tiny shift of his body in the direction of the arm chair. She stretched her long body on the bed and kicked the comforter off in the process. For some reason, this movement made him even more wary. "Don't wake him," she whispered. "He is very tired."

Sam snorted and was about to reply when Kat sat up straight in the bed and her head snapped toward the door. She bolted out of the bed and leaped the short distance from bed to door. When she yanked the door open, she knelt down just as a small child ran into her arms sobbing uncontrollably. Sam lept to his feet and the commotion woke the sleeping Dean who rose from the chair with a glock pulled and pointed at the door. When Dean saw the child he hid the gun behind him and under his shirt.

Kat was cooing to the child, trying to make sense of his frantic nonsense until the words, "He has a gun" escaped the child's mouth. She seemed to tense and she turned to glare at Sam and Dean with fire in her eyes. "Whatever happens," she commanded the child, "Stay here." He nodded and ran to jump on the bed, pulling covers up over him. She looked only long enough to make sure he was safely there and she ran out of the apartment.

The Winchesters started to follow, hesitated long enough for Dean to signal for Sam to remain with the child, and Dean went to back Kat up with whatever it was that spooked her. She was already at an apartment near the back alley of the small complex. She was peeping in through the barred windows and her posture was rigid and tense. She remained still like that until just before Dean caught up to her. She must have seen something that concerned her because she sprang to the door and began trying to force it open. She frantically thrust her body against the door over and over again, pausing to scratch at the door with her hands and demand the door be opened. Dean grabbed her arm with one hand and stood at the corner of the threshold with his gun at the ready.

Sense seemed to come back into Kat's expression and she stood on the opposite side and waited. He counted wordlessly to her and, on three, he kicked in the door, covering the occupants with his weapon. Kat glanced in to see a man holding an unconscious woman lying on the floor by the hair. He had a gun in his hand and he held her close to his body. Kat was enraged and entered slowly. She showed the man her hands to show she had no similar weapons, but Dean stood behind her, his body shielded by the door frame with a gun pointed at the man. Kat was careful not to step between that gun and the man on the floor.

"Let her go." She whispered to him. "Let her go, and you may yet live."

The man screwed up his face in defiance and anger. "Are you telling me what to do, Bitch?" he screamed.

Kat stopped moving forward long enough for Dean to see small sparks coming from Kat's arms. He adjusted his stance and waited. He didn't know what she was doing, but he didn't like it. When no fireworks were lit into the room, Dean figured Kat may have changed her mind about letting them loose. Kat instead knelt down on the floor six feet away from the hostage situation. "Let her go, please." She whispered again.

The man seemed to consider her request, or he was calculating that someone may have already called five-oh. His eyes shifted as he was deciding how he would handle this situation. Kat seemed to know he had few options here, and the police standoff that was likely to ensue would be bad for the child, his mother, the man… and bad for her and the two Hunters she had as houseguests. "We will let you go now." She continued, "I'm just worried about Clara. I don't want to detain you." She was nearly pleading with him. The man's gaze darted to Dean in the doorway. Kat seemed to read his concern, "He won't bother you unless you try to hurt me or him. He'll let you go, too. " Kat heard the muttering under his breath as Dean responded to that.

Slowly, the man rose from his position on the floor. He aimed his weapon at Kat and shifted it to Dean as he began to move. Kat remained completely still on the floor but her gaze never left the man. He began to maneuver around the furniture and to the right side of Kat toward the door. Kat remained frozen there and watched him as he came closer to her. When he was a few feet away, Kat suddenly, in a fluid quick action, leaped sideways at the man and grabbed him by the arm. Flashes of light escaped her bracelets as she smashed the man into the wall. She repeated slamming him into the wall until he fell limp on the floor. Dean watched until she stopped slamming him. He could hear growling vibrations all through the air and her eyes looked completely mad. He turned the aim of his gun to her. He didn't know if she had lost control enough to attack him, but didn't want to take any chances.

When he heard sirens in the distance, he called to her, "Kat!" She didn't seem to hear him, but lay prone near the man she had just incapacitated. She remained guarded and tense. "Kat!" Dean tried again. This time, some reason returned to her eyes and she looked up to see Dean staring at her with a horrified expression on his face. She turned to look over her shoulder at Clara. She raced to Clara and felt her carotid artery for a pulse. Her face was turning purple in the corner near her temple. Kat turned to face Dean.

"Stash your weapons in the Impala, Dean. You and Sam keep Ray in my apartment until an officer or I come to get him." Dean looked like he was going to argue, but the sirens were getting closer. He turned to go. She remained with Clare and stroked her hair. That was how Officer Ballard found her.

Two police cars screamed into the parking lot. The officers headed cautiously to the open door of the apartment where Clare and Kat lay on the floor. Kat recognized Officer Ballard's cologne even before he arrived in the room. There were two officers with him she had not yet met. But, she knew Ballard. He had a serious problem with Kat and was always willing to think the worst of her. She also knew that he was a good cop; he wasn't corruptible. She admired him for his dedication to "protect and serve". Kat looked up at him with her large green eyes.

"Get an ambulance," he ordered one of his men. The officer left to go. The other officer went to the fallen man by the door. He began patting him down and securing the weapon. Ballard went to where Clare and Kat were laying.

"What happened?" he asked her. She told him, more or less, exactly what happened from Ray coming to her apartment to Ballard's arrival, leaving out significant details like Dean's involvement. She knew the man on the floor was Clare's ex-husband and Clare had a restraining order against him. She told these facts to Ballard. Ballard took notes and made observations with darting eyes around the scene. She knew he was suspicious as he asked questions of her, but they seemed to have a temporary truce that focused on protecting Clare.

This is why she admired Ballard. He wasn't friendly. He wasn't comforting. He was, however, competent and thorough. He thrust his chin out at her. He knew there were holes in her story. He was unwilling to believe she was simply in shock or frightened. He believed she was deliberately withholding information. He paused to look at her and backed away as the paramedics approached.

Kat rose from the floor and swayed slightly. She had not fully recovered from the power drain of earlier in the evening. She was not able to call upon more power to deal with one lone lunatic ex-husband! She rubbed her face with her hand and felt another hand grip her loose hand to steady her. Ballard looked at her face, not with concern, but with a scrutiny that told her he was trying to determine if the instability was genuine. She flashed him a tight grin and withdrew her hand from his. "Thanks." She said simply.

"Where is the boy?" he asked. She hesitated then.

She had made friends with the eight year old boy the day she arrived at the apartment complex. He was defending a dog from an abusive owner and was standing defiantly between the small dog and a large man insistent that the boy return his property. Kat watched the child jut out his chin, much as Ballard had, to display his stubborn will. Yup. He won her heart during that one moment. She interfered in the standoff resulting in the owner walking away without his dog but was fifty bucks richer. After that day, she often found Ray at her door. Occasionally, he had a question that he was unable to find a satisfactory answer from other adults. When he realized she would seriously consider his questions or observations, he would bring them to her more frequently, no matter what the subject matter. She felt protective toward the child, and as an extension, toward his mother.

She wondered if she should hedge her answer. She shifted from foot to foot and averted her gaze from his face. He recognized her reluctance. "We need to find a family member to care for him until his mother recovers." He said in a matter-of-fact tone. "He needs to go with us."

"I'll bring him here." She said sadly. She began walking across the driveway. The residents had emerged in pre-dawn light to see the excitement in their neighborhood. Their eyes followed her briefly and she could hear the whispered comments. She turned the doorknob to her apartment to find herself bowled over by a small form. She knelt down to hold the boy as he shook under her hands. She felt like she was going to cry. She sniffed and looked up to see the Winchesters watching her. She schooled her expression with a more friendly and confident smile. She pulled gently away from Ray to look into his face.

"Your mom is going to be fine." She began. "Your dad won't be bothering either of you again." She hesitated and took a breath as she noticed the storm clouds form in the child's face. "I have a friend who is going to take you and show you the police station for a little while. He's going to introduce you to a social worker..." The child's face brightened.

"Like Mrs. Gamely?" He asked with a smile.

Kat smiled and nodded. "Just like Mrs. Gamely." Mrs. Gamely was the social worker at Ray's school. He had come to Kat to confirm some piece of information Mrs. Gamely had given Ray and from that point on, he felt comfortable asking the social worker some of the questions he had asked Kat. She was glad Mrs. Gamely had been such a good example of her profession so this experience might not be so traumatic.

"Will she have games like Mrs. Gamely has?" he asked.

Kat swallowed hard and tried to keep the tears from forming in her eyes. "Maybe." She replied.

Ray seemed to consider what Kat had said. He decided that he could always trust Kat. She never lied to him and she was his friend. He could count on these facts to know that she was interested in his benefit. Kat reached out to Ray and pulled a chain from beneath his t-shirt collar. At the end of the chain, there was a cartouche. She held it briefly in her hand and gazed up into the boys eyes. He looked down at the thin piece of metal and nodded at her. She looked at him sternly for a moment, "For anything." She said.

"I know." Ray responded. He threw his arms around her neck in a tight hug. Kat closed her eyes and firmly and warmly embraced the child. When they pulled away, Kat rose and held Ray's hand to lead him to Ballard.

When she returned to the apartment, she walked in as a zombie might. She walked deliberately to the cabinets and she pulled down a bottle of an amber liquid. She poured it into a glass and downed it quickly. She closed her eyes before turning to face the men standing looking at her. She took a deep breath before she addressed them. "Can the questioning wait until I can catch my breath?" she asked.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five- What's In a Name?

Both Sam and Dean relaxed and walked to sit at the table, but cast covert glances at the woman leaning against the countertop, staring at a wall. Dean pulled the cartouche out from under his shirt and looked at it. He removed it from his neck and passed it to Sam. He nodded toward the computer. Sam nodded once and began typing in the search. Dean continued to watch Kat. She walked to the window and stared outside at the last of the police cars as they pulled from the driveway.

She turned from the window and sat at the corner of her bed facing the brothers. "What exactly did you want to know?" she sighed in resignation.

"What are you?" Dean asked without preamble.

Kat considered his question. She looked at the men sitting there waiting on her to respond. "Where do you think your ideas go when you stop thinking about them?" The brothers looked at her with similar expressions of confusion.

"I don't know.. what the?" Dean barked. "Never really thought about it." Sam confessed.

Kat grinned. She looked away from them and considered how much to reveal. How much could she say without stretching even their credulity? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Imagine you had all kinds of power," she whispered. "When you have an idea, it doesn't disappear into nothing. If you give enough will to that idea, it becomes manifest. The thoughts you have, the ideas, they go forth into the nether and become tangible and alive." Kat looked off with an expression of awe. "The Creator had ideas of things, many things… and they came into being... His creation woke and sang Him praises, thanking Him for bringing them to life. The Choir was grateful to their creator and they were completely dedicated to Him. But, not all of the ideas were winners." She grinned, casting a sidelong glance at them. She looked down in memory of something long past. "He tasked some of his creation to protecting Paradise, but… ideas, they evolve. They take on a life of their own." She paused and sat there staring off.

Dean and Sam sat watching her for a long while before it became uncomfortable. She didn't look like she was going to continue. Dean cleared his throat and waited. She didn't stir from her reverie. He called to her, "Kat?"

"Hm?" she replied without turning or moving.

"Kat?" he repeated. This time she shook herself. She resumed her story. "There were beings created to guard from the ideas He didn't want in to corrupt His new world. They were nebulous and without physical manifestation. They were at the edges of His creation, never a part of one world or the other. Gatekeepers between…" She turned to look at the brothers. They were sitting still and intent on her. "They didn't even have a name… I use Gatekeepers for clarity. After the Creator had introduced Humans into Paradise, ha… that was when things began to get really exciting. Angels, Seraphim... they divided into camps; one camp questioned the wisdom of the creation of Humans and one would adhere to the Creator's mandate that they be respected and obeyed..."

"Yeah, well," Dean interrupted, "We sort of know this bit… intimately. You can skip it."

Kat grinned at Dean. Yeah, they knew that bit. They knew all about Lucifer's fall from Grace and his subsequent imprisonment.

"Just one part you should know… The Gatekeepers on the edges of Paradise? One of them… got a little distracted." She looked uncomfortable at this admission. "When the Humans were tempted and then were ejected from Eden," she sighed, "That Gatekeeper… felt… responsible for their failure and followed the humans. The humans… were fragile, flawed, weak… It seemed inevitable that one night, they would cry out to the Universe to help them survive."

She took a deep breath. "There was a mother… she was sick and her mate had died. She had two small boys and she didn't think she would be able to protect them. So, the guardian took a form that would appear harmless, innocuous. She approached in the form of a cat. When the mother saw the creature, she knew… she knew it wasn't what it pretended to be. She thought the creature was there to answer her hopes, her prayers, for protection, for her kids. She willed all those things into what she imagined a cat was… into what her kids needed the creature to be." She glanced at the men. "That's _powerful_ magic. With her dying breath, she willed all those ideas- the mother and the protector, the teacher and the friend, the defender and the watcher, playful and provider- into one word…" She looked at the brothers intently, willing them to truly understand. "She spoke the word and imbued all those thoughts into the creature, into its naming. She created a _god _with one word. She named the god in her last breath, her last word… Pasht."

Dean leaned back in his chair. He regarded the woman in front of him for a long while before speaking.

"You?" He asked. She nodded. Sam looked skeptical. "I thought it was Bast. Also, the cat-goddess… wasn't she supposed to be all about self-indulgence?"

Kat laughed. "Yes. And yes, Sam." She moved, graceful and gliding as she walked across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. "Have you ever played that game where you whisper a secret into the ear of your friend and the secret goes around until it comes back to you? It's never the same secret, is it? I am what I am needed to be. For the mother, I was needed to be a good mother and protector for her children. She saw that the cat was all of this. When the boys grew up, they saw something different in me. When they spoke of Pasht to others, that… idea… changed. So did I. Even my name. Besides, I have been called by many names. That was just my first one." She shrugged.

"Wait, hold on… You said before that you couldn't say your name because your enemy would hear it and know where you were." Sam accused.

"Yeah, you think he didn't hear my use of power to lift a car?" She smiled sadly, "Or my attempt to use power to stop Ray's dad from hurting his mom?" Weariness and sadness played briefly across her face, before she suppressed them and steeled her face into a serene mask of confidence. She looked out the window, and then began moving to the door. "Anyway, you two should get some rest. I have a couple of errands to run before the morning gets too much older."

Dean rose to block her way. "I don't think so, Lady." He said with a belligerent thrust of his chin. He looked down at her and didn't miss the annoyance she flashed as she stopped in front of him.

"You said you were a Hunter. You wanted to recruit us to hunt a Demon. Now, you say you're Bast. Fine. We've seen demi-gods, pagan gods and archangels… as well as The Devil, himself! So, what's to stop us from walking out of here and leaving you to your Hunt. I already told you once… I am tired of being the butt-monkey for every supernatural ass wipe that cruises into town!"

Kat stood still in front of the screaming Winchester. He was tired, all right. His eyes were rimmed in red and bloodshot. Sam stood nearby, watching with concern as his brother dressed down the goddess. She was proud, but she was also patient. She could submit when it proved the better strategy for getting the desired end result. She lowered her eyes and reached out to Dean hesitantly. He yanked his arm out of her reach. She peered up at him. He was fuming. She backed up a step. He oriented himself in a defensive posture, ready to fight.

_ He wants to fight with me?_ She was incredulous. He was willing to back her up at Ray's. He was willing to risk his life riding in the car at the race. He protected her when she loosed the last dregs of power she had stored to right the flipped Honda. Now, he was ready to scrap? Then she realized what it was. Her expression softened. Her voice was quiet.

She looked up to him and put all of her heart into the one word that came as a whisper, "_Please._"

Dean blinked. His posture relaxed. He shifted his weight back. He looked at his brother. Sam gave him _that_ look. The look that told him Sam would back his call, but he wouldn't like it if it wasn't the one he wanted Dean to make. Sam wanted to help her. Dean could see it all over his face. Sam wanted to hear her out. He wanted to be the "White Knight". Dean wasn't buying the act Kat was playing, but he couldn't think of an argument that would satisfy his brother without making himself into the bad guy. Dean muttered curses under his breath. He rubbed his hands over his weary face. He scrubbed his fist in his tired eyes. "What errands?" he asked.

She sighed. "I gotta go see Adam to get paid. I want to pick up a newspaper, and I need to get my car."

"Your car?" Sam asked. He looked out the window at the Camaro. Kat smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6- It's What We Do

Dean and Kat were in the Camaro headed out to the airstrip. He seemed to be near sleep in the passenger seat. Metallica blared "Sad But True" on the speakers, but instead of keeping him awake, seemed to lull him. Kat looked into the rear view to see she had an obvious shadow. There was a police cruiser following her out. She didn't really worry about that. She didn't even mention it or watch to see if he followed her through the strip's entrance.

When she pulled the car into the lot in front of the hanger office, she took a moment to feel the heat of the morning sun on her face. She stood waiting for Dean to pour out of the passenger seat. He could take his time. She loved the California sun. She loved to relax at the beach in the sand, soaking in the heat. When Dean moved to join her, not even his surly and temperamental mood would shake her from the pleasure of the sun's warming rays. She smiled at him.

He grimaced at her. "Let's get this over with" he groused.

They walked in step to the office and he let her precede him into the building. It was dark and nearly empty. In the main hanger, there were about a dozen vehicles—none of them airplanes. Mechanics were making ratcheting noises as they worked and hydraulic power tools whined, echoing in the cavernous building. She smelled rose-scented perfume. She didn't even turn when she greeted Adam's petite office manager. "Hello, Carmen," she called.

"Adam has your money here, Kat." The woman said with a brisk voice. She never stopped working on the computer and didn't make eye contact with Kat or Dean. The manila envelope with a stack of cash inside sat on the large metal desk with her name in bold marker written across the front. She opened the envelope and quickly scanned the contents. She was satisfied with what she saw and turned to leave.

"That was it?" Dean asked as they walked out to the car.

"That's it." She replied. She was counting the bills without removing them from the envelope. When they slid into the seats of the car, she handed Dean two stacks of them. Dean's eyes went wide. They were grouped in denominations of hundred dollar bills and banded as $1000 per stack. She threw the envelope into the glove box and started the ignition. Dean looked at her in shock but shrugged and put the stacks of bills in the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

As they exited the airfield's driveway, she noticed they picked up their tail once more. Kat was still pretty nonplussed by their new friend. She headed the car back into town. She passed several grocery stores and quick marts. Dean looked at them as they whizzed past. He looked at Kat with a quizzical expression. "I thought you needed a newspaper." He said at last. His attitude had seemed to lighten up with his pay day.

Kat smiled. "I am looking for a specific kind of newspaper. They don't have what I need at these stores." He let that rest. He sat back and listened to the music as it beat out "Hot Blooded" loud enough to get a noise violation should their tail decide to need an excuse. Evidently, they didn't plan to pull her over, because they continued to follow without any interference with her planned course.

They were cruising through a residential suburban neighborhood. Dean seemed to perk up from earlier, tapping to the music playing inside the car and he occasionally smiled. Kat was reluctant to pull into the driveway of the house since he was in such a light mood, but she figured he would know something was amiss if they kept circling the neighborhood. She glanced in the rearview again. Yep. Still had a shadow… She glanced at her passenger and she quickly covered a grin.

"Dean. We're being followed." She reported. He looked in the side mirror to confirm the cruiser was behind them and tailing her. The smile disappeared from his face and he continued to watch. His body was taut and ready for action. She continued to drive, moving out of the neighborhood. She knew she could easily shake them, if she wanted to. They just seemed intent on watching her for now. She really wasn't all that concerned about them, but she also didn't want to get out of the car just yet. She led them on a slow speed chase that wasn't all that urgent. She ducked down side streets and doubled back on her own trail. At one point, she ended up tailing them. The two Hunters laughed at the ineptitude of their tagalongs. She was enjoying "cat-and-mouse", but she really had things to do. She drove onto the freeway and sped away. She managed to ditch them with a little effort and discrete use of her power.

She returned to the neighborhood they had been cruising before she decided to play. There was a cul-de-sac with little single story homes and picket fences, manicured lawns and hedges. There were people out in the driveways, on the lawns, in their garages. Preppies and suburban housewives were evident all over the street. Children played at the end of the road and Kat had to wait for them to move their pick-up basketball game over to the sidewalk before she continued. She pulled in to the driveway at the end. She garnered no few glances—suspicion from the females gathered together in a knot, gossiping about their neighbors and appreciation from no few of the men in one of the open garages standing around a new model muscle car. Dean glanced around at their speculative glances and guessed at the expressions on their faces that the dress of both newcomers and the music they had blared when driving up the road were unwelcome here.

Dean hovered near Kat, casting looks of defiance and possessiveness at the onlookers. Kat could hardly have expected this behavior from him as they walked up the walkway to the front of the house. She grinned happily at the change in his attitude. She knocked on the door and stood waiting. Dean stood in the wary defensiveness of a trained warrior. New situations called for a level of vigilance drilled from childhood. She could appreciate how well he had been trained. She doubted he even thought about it. He just did it instinctively by now.

The door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman with clear-ice blue eyes in a sweater and blue jeans. She looked at Kat briefly, but her gaze lingered on Dean for a long time before she stepped aside to allow them admittance. She pointedly ignored the gaggle of hens standing around wondering about her and her visitors.

"Still having difficulty with the neighbors?" Kat asked the woman as if they had just been talking and hadn't just arrived.

"Nothing I can't handle" she replied with a shrug. "And you've been picking up strays." She said with a whimsical look for Dean. Dean, for his part, turned on the charm. His crooked smile for the woman was enough to melt the most hardened heart. The woman belted a hearty laugh from the core of her. "I think you may have bitten off more than even you can chew, my friend!" She laughed. She waved for them to follow her. They entered a sunken living room and the sidelong glance that was shot toward Dean as he followed made him wary again. The woman stopped and turned a little way inside. Kat just held a smirk with laughter in her eyes. Dean looked around the room and his eyes alighted on a devil's snare painted on the ceiling. He didn't seem to relax with the realization that he had entered the home of someone who was "in the know".

"Karen Whiley," Kat began, "Meet Dean Winchester."

Karen's eyes went wide and her face turned completely white. She looked at Kat with a level of what Dean thought was fear or awe. It made him uncomfortable. He had been thinking a lot about Kat and what had happened in the very short time he had known her. He was definitely having fun with her. But, he felt, he couldn't trust her. This new and unexpected visit made him almost positive that she would not be a trustworthy companion. Dean tried to shrug off the woman's shocked expression.

"Goddess!" Karen gasped in a harsh whisper. The stricken expression and shaking that made Karen reach behind her to keep from falling to the floor made Dean even more uncertain and confused.

Kat had continued to the kitchen as though she hadn't just brought something terrifying into the woman's home. Dean could only imagine the stories Karen had heard about him. No story he could think of would be one that might make this reaction predictable from someone who knew Hunters. Karen began weeping, her lower lip trembled as Kat returned, unconcerned, with a bottle of beer. Only when she looked up from opening the bottle did she notice Karen had knelt on the floor weeping and shaking. "Uh..." she said lamely.

"Have I offended you, Mistress? What have I done?" Karen pleaded hysterically. "How have I displeased you?" She held her hair in her hands and stared ashen-faced and wide-eyed from Dean to Kat.

Dean looked confused and embarrassed by the woman's reaction. Kat shrugged, seemingly as confused as he. Karen looked at Kat and pointed at Dean.

"How could you have brought _Dean Winchester_ here? Please, Mistress, if I am no longer pleasing to you... please, please," she whimpered, "Allow me to…" Her eyes grew wider if possible. She jumped to her feet and ran across the floor to a cabinet, throwing it open and reached for a long curved dagger.

Kat's eyes widened as she understood Karen's intention. A cat-like yelp escaped Kat's mouth as she dropped the bottle on the floor in her rush to intercept Karen. Dean was just a fraction faster and he grabbed Karen's wrist to wrest the dagger from her grasp.

"Hey hey hey…" He soothed the wild woman. Kat grabbed Karen in an embrace. She turned Karen to face her. Concern was written all over Kat's face as they both lowered again to the floor. Dean was likewise concerned for the woman's emotional distress as he took the dagger and placed it on the shelf in the cabinet. He vaguely registered the spell components and paraphernalia hidden there.

"Karen," Kat said tersely, "You are MINE. I am not displeased with you! What are you thinking?" She demanded.

Karen looked aghast again at Dean. "You have brought him… Bamucapi! Witch killer!"

Kat understood. She looked at Dean. The amusement and concern had vanished from his face. In that moment, Kat could see the man Karen had feared. His narrowed eyes were agates and his jaw was clenched tightly. She turned back to the tearfully pleading Karen. Kat lifted Karen from the floor by standing up while holding her.

"You aren't a witch anymore, Karen. You are a priestess of Bast." She turned to look Dean in the eyes as she spoke to Karen so fiercely willing her to believe the words, "You are under _my_ protection."

Kat reached out a hand to touch Karen's face in a gentle caress. Her hand slid down to Karen's neck and she slid the chain and pendent out from beneath her shirt. The former witch began calming slightly as Kat was able to attract and keep her gaze. Kat held the cartouche in her hand. "Do you deny me?" She asked in a hoarse whisper. "Would you leave me without my priestess? Without my friend?"

Karen gasped and her stricken face no longer held fear for Dean. She loved Kat. Dean could see the love and more in her expression. His own expression began to soften and, again, he became uncomfortable. This was getting too Lifetime Original movie for him. He walked away from the two women. He exited to the hallway and leaned against a wall. He had had a wild couple of days. And not in a good way. He checked his phone and clicked into the contacts menu. He was scrolling down before he was actually conscious of doing so. He stopped at the listing "Lisa" and stared at the word.

"Boy, you have an effect on women, don't you?" Dean flipped the cell closed at Kat's soft voice. "I can't take you anywhere." She was smiling and calm, which meant she had managed to calm down the priestess as well, he hoped.

"Yeah, well… Celebrity is as celebrity does, I guess." He responded. "You probably could have done that better, you know."

"You're not wrong." She admitted.

"What, exactly, are we here for?" Dean asked.

"Information, if I can get her calmed down enough." She shook her head in disgust. "I should take it as a good thing that she didn't try to fry either one of us into charcoal after the scare she took."

Dean raised an eyebrow in concern. "She can do that?" he asked.

Kat nodded grimly. "I would have been okay, but you…" She shrugged.

"Gee, thanks." Dean said.

Kat's grin took a mischievous glint and her eyes grew sly. "You know," she began, "She wouldn't have been able to hurt you either if you still had the cartouche I gave you." She laughed quietly to herself. "It protects against fire…. Among other things."

Dean blinked. "Really?"

Kat nodded. Just then, Karen entered the hallway. She cast nervous glances at Dean, but was nearly in control of herself again. "Kat? I'm ready to find it." She whispered. Kat nodded once then turned back to Dean.

"Uh, look, Dean. Can I ask a favor?" She asked.

Dean looked at her for a moment. "Depends on what it is." He replied.

Kat looked away a little uncomfortably but withdrew a slip of paper from her pocket. It was a business card that had the logo of a storage company on it. "This is likely to take a lot of concentration and time. Would you mind going to this storage locker and bring back my car. Just switch the Camaro for the other. Go get a shower and a nap. I'll call…"

Honestly, Dean was thrilled to be able to be away from the house. He eagerly took the keys to the green car and Kat walked him out. She gathered some things from the glove compartment and the trunk before he started the ignition. "Don't forget the MP3 player. I like my playlists." She grinned.

"What's an MP3?" he asked with a completely straight face. She wasn't sure he was kidding. She leaned in across him to tap the device. He had a grin on his face as she was withdrawing from the cabin. Their faces were close and he could feel her body heat close to him. She had a cinnamon fragrance about her and her body heat was warming. His grin and the mischief in his eyes let her know he was messing with her at that moment. She couldn't blame him. She had put him through a lot of drama in 24 hours.

She withdrew completely from the cabin and told him to drive carefully. The neighborhood watch was out on the street still as Dean pulled out and drove away. She was tempted to say or do something to stick it in their faces, but decided that she had caused enough chaos on this block for one morning. She turned instead and went back into the house.

Karen was slightly wild-eyed, but she had calmed down considerably. The tremors that still shook her were subsiding. "I apologize, Kat…" she began. "I should have known better. I'm usually not so…" She ducked her head and took Kat's hand in hers.

"If you can forgive me, we can get on with why I'm here." She said. She was warm and sincere in her love for her priestess. She drew Karen to her and they embraced. Karen withdrew from Kat and turned to walk into the large great room.

She pulled the cabinet open that had revealed several components. The knife Karen had removed earlier was back in a ceremonial sheath on a shelf. Karen brought three candles—white, red, and green—and placed them on an altar. Just as she was lighting the candles, a grey and white cat strolled into the room. His golden eyes made contact with Kat and he walked to rub his dappled side along Karen's leg. He seemed to have a calming effect on his person. She was shaking less visibly and her shoulders relaxed. Kat smiled at him.

Kat stretched and yawned. "Karen, I need to bathe. I don't suppose you have a change of clothes I can have?"

Karen was nearly completely focused on her task, but she absently answered that she could take whatever she needed from the closet in her room. Kat went down the hallway. Kat had discovered that, despite the fact that she was unable to use her own power, her priests and priestesses still had access to it. It was good that she was able to lure a woman with arcane knowledge and experience to help her and dedicate herself to Bast's priesthood. There wasn't really a whole lot to it. Bast never really expected formal worship. She didn't even really need it to fuel her power, but she found the sense of belonging the worship brought her was comforting.

She began peeling off her clothing while she walked down the hallway to the large bedroom where she could clean. The bathroom boasted a large whirlpool tub and had a scattering of lotions and oils on the surround. Big fluffy towels warmed near a window and she drew the water to fill the tub. She found that Karen, like Kat, enjoyed music in all kinds of settings. She tuned the stereo she found on a shelf to some soothing music and poured some of the oils into the steaming tub. She stepped into the warm fragrance laden water and slunk down to submerse herself into its inviting embrace.

She had been soaking for a good long time before she sensed a feeling of dread. Her head whipped up and water lapped onto the tiled floor of the bathroom as she rushed out. She sprinted down the hallway, her body steaming in the air. When she arrived in the Great room, she saw what she had sensed. There, in the middle of the room, just outside the Devil's Snare, was the object of her search.

The demon had a sneer on his face and he held Karen in the air by sheer will. Kat let out a strangled cry as she reached for her priestess. Sparks flew from her wrists as she attempted to access the power so far from her reach. She instead rushed the former sorcerer of Ahmose's court. She was trying to transform herself to a more battle ready form. Short fur dappled her naked body and her nails grew into short dirks. Her eyes became slit and canine teeth grew pointed. She jumped through the air, claws and teeth extended toward him. He slapped her aside with the power he still had unfettered.

She fell to the ground but landed on her feet. She sprang once more at him without hesitation. She hoped to push him into the demon trap, but managed to hit a wall of force surrounding him. She growled and screeched at him in impotent fury. She looked once more into her friend's face to see her muttering with her last breaths. Tears streamed down her cheek and the color in her face was growing deeper red into purple-blue.

Kat dragged the last of what power she was able to reach and focused it on the demon standing before her. She backed the power with rage and agony, with loss and vengeance. She watched as the last light left in Karen's eyes. With that loss, she thrust the power into a stiletto strike at the demon's chest. When she released the power shooting across the room at the demon, she felt its impact as he toppled backward. Just before he tripped into the Snare, he cast power at the pentagram on the ceiling, blowing a hole in the roof. Pieces of plaster and brick tiles fell inside, landing on the now prone Karen and trapped the half-transformed cat-goddess. Kat had no energy left to even hold her head up from the debris strewn floor. Shafts of sunlight streamed into the room and the demon turned to look at his ancient adversary on the ground.

He smirked at her helpless form and walked through the dust and falling powder to tower over Kat. His low quiet laughter made Kat look up. She wanted to reach up and tear his flesh from his body. She wanted to shred the eyes from their sockets and clamp her sharp pointed teeth into his throat. Her seething breaths just made him that much more cocksure. He leaned down to place his face very close to hers. She didn't even have the energy to pull away. She couldn't move her arms. They were stuck under giant pieces of broken drywall. She was covered in a fine dusting of white and her eyes were becoming caked with plaster dust. She felt angry at feeling so defeated.

From the corner of her eye, there was a movement. A grey shadow crept around to her left and behind her. She was staring up at the demon sorcerer on her right when she sensed shifting energy from behind. A yowling projectile launched itself at the demons smirking face and dug a tiny claw into his eye. He raked with his rear claws to leave shredded marks on his face. He swatted the cat from him and turned away from Kat to seek the offending creature. He looked for him with the remaining eye, gingerly holding his face, blood pouring forth. He looked confused as to why the cuts weren't healing. He spat down at the weakening and dying goddess. He smiled once and left with another word.

Kat closed her eyes just as the form of a dappled grey Mau came to her. He climbed over the debris to lay curled up on her chest. He tucked his nose into his paws and began to glow. Sunlight refracted off the ends of his fur and he sent feelings of love and devotion through the touch of his body to hers. She felt a small amount of energy returning to her through the contact. Her eyes snapped open. She looked down at the cat lying on top of her between rubble. "Karen?" she gasped. The cat's slow blink was all the answer she got as she slipped into unconsciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven- And Then It All Falls Apart

Dean was sitting at a red light in the DMNHNTR. He was contemplating the name for this car. It was totally impractical for actual demon hunting. The trunk would never hold enough equipment to adequately do the job he and Sam did. Also, it was flashy and fast. It attracted attention when sometimes Hunters needed to lie low, under the RADAR. Also, there was no way anyone would believe the driver of this car was FBI or any number of aliases used by Hunters. No, the Impala was much more suited to the lifestyle he had since childhood.

Music from an approaching car to his left made him look over to see two very tan women in a BMW convertible. They laughed and eyed him with appreciation. They looked him over as well as admired his car. Yeah, he thought, it's not good for hunting demons… but, maybe it's good for a totally different kind of hunt all together. He leaned back in the comfortable bucket seat and flashed a smile at them. They giggled and called questions at him until they were interrupted by the blaring horn from behind them. The young women zoomed off and Dean stepped on the gas to catch up. It didn't take very much to keep up in the Camaro. The car needed very little prompting to accelerate.

They pulled into the parking lot of one of those outdoor malls and the women parked. They left their vehicle and waited for Dean to pull over and get out. They crowded around him and flirted with him, leaning into him and tittering on at whatever comment he made. He opened his phone and dialed his brother's number.

When Sam answered the call, Dean could hear the sleep in his voice. "Dude, you have to get dressed right now and meet me." He gave the name of the mall.

"What are you doing at a mall, Dean?" Sam complained.

"I am surrounded... by beautiful women! Just get here." With that he snapped close the phone.

Dean was leaning against the front fender of the Camaro when Sam rolled up in the Impala. He parked and joined his brother as Dean whispered something into the blonde hair of one of four women surrounding the green car. The blonde chuckled wickedly and laid her hand on Dean's arm. Dean waved his brother over to him and began introductions. All the women had candy sweet and bubbly names. Sam only marginally paid any attention to them.

"Nice to meet you, Ladies." He said. "Can I steal my brother for a moment, please?" The women all groaned in protest that turned into a giggle-fest as soon as the two men were standing near the back of the car.

Sam only had half of Dean's attention as his brother continued to focus on the long-legged beauties surrounding the car.

"Dean!" he snapped, "What's going on? Where's Kat?"

Dean shook his head, pulled a face and waved his hand to dismiss Sam's preoccupation with the trivial when there was a flock of beautiful women nearby. "She sent me home. Apparently, I have a reputation in Wicca circles as not being a friend of the Blessed bitches." He puffed himself up and smirked at the idea that he could bring a powerful witch to her knees in fear. He was only slightly ashamed of himself for the near suicidal fear he had brought to Karen, but he had been thinking about it. He wondered what other reactions he might get from not-so-protected covens. "I guess I was too distracting to keep around her tame witch." He explained briefly about the events at Karen's house.

He looked back at the women. "Hey," he said to Sam, "Let's take a couple of these fine California girls and get something to eat." Sam shook his head at Dean in amusement. He was always amazed at how self-indulgent Dean could be. It was completely fitting they were working with the goddess of self-indulgence, but he felt she might be a bad influence on his brother. She definitely got them in as much trouble as she provided entertainment.

"Dean, don't we have work to do?" he asked.

Dean looked at his brother in dismay. "We have to wait for some information the witch is getting for Kat. We have a while and I haven't eaten today. We had a _really_ early wake up call." He lightened his expression and slapped his brother on the back as he began walking toward the women. Sam watched Dean curve his arms around two of his admirers. He is a lot happier, thought Sam. He's more like the brother I know right now. He sighed and walked to join the group. Two of the women latched on to Sam, which he didn't mind. They were sweet, if not too bright.

A couple of hours later, the brothers were headed back to the car with fewer of their group than earlier. One blonde woman had claimed Dean and was making plans to meet with him later. Sam was unwilling to oblige his own admirer, shooting down attempts by her to lead him into a plan to meet later. He shifted uncomfortably waiting for his brother to conclude his farewell.

"Well," said Sam. "Didn't you say Kat would call you? When did she say we should expect her?"

Dean looked up at his younger brother and made a dismissive gesture. "I don't know, Dude... just later. We gotta go switch cars at this storage locker." Dean sighed his reluctance after finding out what the Camaro was truly good for.

"I'll follow you." Sam said.

Both cars rolled up to an RV storage shed. A strong scent of sandalwood and leather wafted at them as the door rose up. They could see the interior was clean and brightly painted. There were skylights in the roof that let light into the cavernous storage unit. Glass paneled cabinets lined the side walls. They could see bottles and jars filled with herbs, spell components, and some kinds of powders in neat rows behind the glass.

There were weapons from all different eras of human history lining one portion of the side wall. Most the swords were in fairly poor repair; aging and oxidation made them all but useless. A few though appeared beautifully preserved. A bronze-age hooked khopesh was displayed near a medieval long sword with an ivory hilt hanging point-down. Several modern weapons, including several firearms were displayed as well. Along the back wall were workbenches and barrister bookcases containing leather bound volumes and tomes. The one object in the middle was car-shaped and covered with a tarp.

The brothers walked the length and width of the unit, looking inside the cabinets. Sam tried to decipher the actual hieroglyphs written in green, red and blue paints all over the walls. He thought it truly looked like art.

Finally, they both stood facing the car under the tarp. Dean reached out and pulled the tarp off to reveal a black and red '69 Camaro Supercharger. Dean's eyes went wide. If Sam thought the paintings on the walls were art, Dean appreciated this car as a masterpiece! The broad stripes in red metallic paint went in two lines up the middle of the black hood to spill down the quarter panels and run along the sides. There were golden hieroglyphs painted inside the broad red vertical stripe down the front quarter panels. In the middle of the spoiler at the back was painted a gold pentagram. The personalized California license plate read "BLCKAT1".

A slow smile began to form on Dean's face. Sam claimed the keys of the green Camaro as Dean eagerly slid behind the wheel of the classic muscle car.

Dean rubbed his hands over the black leather interior. In the middle of the red leather stripe down the middle of the black leather bucket seats was a stylized cat-silhouette in gold. When he turned the engine, the engine purred like the cat for which it was named. He shifted the stick into reverse and pulled the car into the early afternoon sunlight. Sam pulled the green Camaro into the unit and was about to cover the car with a tarp when Dean remembered he was supposed to retrieve the MP3 player from it. They were pulling the tarp over the green car when Sam turned to look at his brother with a tolerant smile on his face.

"What?" Dean asked when he caught his brother's expression.

"I was just wondering if cars could feel when they are being cheated on…" Sam smirked.

"Shut up." Dean responded. Sam walked out of the storage unit, locked it up and prepared to follow Dean in the Impala.

Since they hadn't been able to reach Kat on her phone, and she hadn't yet called them, they thought they would take the Camaro to her and return to the apartment in the Impala. They turned down the cul-de-sac and found it empty of all activity on the street. The garage door was closed, no children played near the standing basketball backboard and there were no kibitzing women making stink-eye faces at the drivers cruising to the house at the end.

Dean had a bad feeling about what he didn't see. He got out of the car cautiously. When Sam parked the Impala, he went to the trunk and waited for his brother to get out of the car. Sam picked up on the non-verbal cues and put on his "game face". He pulled the key to unlock the trunk. They got a couple of hand guns and a machete. The Hunter's code was the same as the Boy Scout's— Be Prepared.

They walked up to the front door, which stood slightly ajar and vaguely bowed at the middle. The two hunters surveyed the area looking for sources of potential danger. Having seen nothing outside of the house, Sam covered Dean as his brother opened the door. The door creaked open and they heard the clicking of debris still falling from the ceiling and the electrical zapping of a fallen power line inside the great room. They stepped gingerly through the debris field and saw the prone figures of both women. Dean covered Sam as he climbed over the drywall and wooden supports that lay all over the floor toward the women. He heard a loud purring and a whining mew from near Kat, but checked on the stranger woman who must have been Karen. He felt for a pulse and, having found none, shook his head at the inquiring expression from his brother.

As Sam approached Kat, he could see the shallow rise and fall of her chest under a wooden beam and large slab of drywall. The white-powder-covered grey cat lay curled in a circle on Kat's exposed upper thighs. He realized then, that the woman was without clothing. He turned to his brother who held his handgun steady pointed down the hallway and kept shooting glances to his brother and around behind him.

"Dean," said Sam, "Go see if you can find a robe, or a blanket, or something."

Dean gave him a quizzical expression, but walked carefully to the back of the house. When he returned, he brought with him a blanket and a long, silken, red robe. He passed the items to his brother who had managed to remove some of the larger objects from on and around Kat. The cat was rubbing its sides on Sam's body, moving back when he needed room to toss another piece of the broken ceiling off to the side. The cat purred loudly and mewed encouragement from time to time.

When Dean approached closely enough to see the battered body underneath, his jaw tightened and he began to help remove objects. He lifted Kat's body from the floor and Sam wrapped her carefully in the robe. They were both careful with her, though Kat never gave any indication she knew they were even there. The little cat moved with them, rubbing a furry face against their legs and darting to the door- only looking back to be sure they were following.

Dean placed her carefully into the back seat of the Impala, covering her with the blanket. The cat jumped in and curled up into a circle again on her lap, purring loudly. Dean almost made to take the cat out, but he got a hissing swipe of the cat's paw for his trouble. He figured it would be easiest to leave it there.

The brothers both got into the Impala and drove back to the apartment. They were certain that a hospital would not be appropriate as Kat had appeared anything but human at the moment. They just couldn't figure what hospital staff would make of this new and surprising creature falling into their emergency room. After they deposited their passenger on top of her bed, followed by her guardian who took up its protective detail curled on Kat's chest, the Winchester brothers were completely out of ideas about what to do next.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer** I bow to the great Kripke and his Universe containing the world of Supernatural about which I am not worthy to write. Hopefully, I have not done all that much damage to his world. Let me know, please.

Chapter Eight- Say Good-Bye Again

Karen had managed to utilize the spell which allowed her to occupy the body of her familiar a couple of times before she had met Kat. She was different from the others in her coven though, mainly focusing on healing potions and spells. She wasn't interested in divination so much. Those spells tended to require blood or animal sacrifice. She just didn't care for the idea of harming others.

She had been watching through her cat's eyes the day she met Kat. She was near an old abandoned barn in wine country. The coven had planned to meet there, she had discovered, for a major working. She had told them she wasn't interested, but she was afraid to remain ignorant of the kind of casting they would do.

When she arrived at the barn, she didn't see her coven, but a sandy-blonde haired man. She could sense other-worldiness from him. She didn't think he was demon. She knew the scent of demon using the form of her familiar. This was something else. She could tell he wasn't human, and that he was planning on working _major_ magic. She didn't even know half of the writings on the circle he was casting. The oils smelled old and had a scent of something unfamiliar as well. She crouched low and remained in the shadows. She would watch to see what kinds of mischief this creature would wreak.

He began casting and lit the circle on fire. Karen's eyes grew wide and the cat's hairs on her back stood straight up. She could feel her tail bristle and she lay her ears back against her head. Then, the lion emerged inside the circle.

She listened to the man as he addressed the creature inside the barrier. The way he looked at her, the tone of his voice as he addressed her. He said her name. Bast! Karen knew of the goddess, of course. How could she not? She listened intently as the man relayed the events of the past and the present. She slunk closer to hear some of the whispered words. She made eye contact with the large tawny lioness.

At that moment, the lion became a woman. The smell of cinnamon filled her nose and the sensation of barely contained power ran up and down the cat's back. She demanded release of the man- no, the _angel_! She began moving. She could tell the ring of flames was keeping the goddess contained. She maneuvered around behind the angel. She crept through shadows to find herself at the back of the barn, furthest away from the two figures. The angel started explaining how he wanted the cat-goddess to lead two brothers into a trap. He spoke of how he would like to collect the soul of one of them. She began scratching dirt and sand onto the flames. Soon, the circle of power was broken. She could hear the growl escape the lips of the dark woman as she flew to the space the cat had opened. When she managed to wind around the circle of flames to where the angel had been, he had gone.

Karen approached the woman cautiously; head low and tail straight behind her. Her ears twitched and she stopped between steps to scent the air and glance into shadows. The woman stood still near the barn door for long moments. She turned to Karen with a smile.

"You take an awful risk, Witch." The goddess said.

_In some cultures_, Karen thought to herself_, the words for risk and opportunity are the same word._

The goddess laughed heartily and her eyes sparkled at the cat. "Indeed, little one. Without the risk, there can be no opportunity. Karen blinked. _She heard my thoughts?_ Bast knelt to reach out her hand to the small feline. "Of course, I can understand you. You speak very loudly in the language of cats." Her smile was genuine. Karen rubbed her nose against the woman's outstretched hand. She purred softly. "We should find your true form, little one," Bast said. "I have much to discuss with you. But, I must tell you, if you are to serve me, you won't be allowed to take this form again."

Karen remembered the many conversations she had with her goddess after they initially met. She couldn't believe how human Bast appeared to her. Karen had sat quietly on many occasions to watch Kat's rage seethe under her calm exterior. She remembered how many times she had held her goddess's hand as tears streamed down her cheek as she realized how hard it was to be in this world without her family or her power. She was with her when she befriended the human child in town. She answered questions Kat had regarding social structures in this new world in which she found herself. Karen had enchanted items, including the talismans, which Kat had infused with small amounts of her very limited power. Karen directed the goddess's power to which she had access to create fairly powerful protections for the wearer. Karen had never imagined she would come against her goddess's nemesis. She imagined the battle between snake and cat would occur after Bast found a way to remove the charmed binding bracelets that limited what she could do.

She found herself purring in the warmth of the apartment. She sent tendrils of power down to her goddess. She didn't have full access to the power of healing she had in a human form. But, her human form was dead. She felt distress at that thought. She squeaked with her feline voice and rubbed her face on the silken robe under her that covered the sleeping form of Bast. She turned her eyes to the men sitting at the dining room table. She wondered if they suspected the truth about her. She rather hoped not. While Bast was awake and physically powerful enough to stop Dean Winchester from killing her, she might have revealed herself. Without that protection, though, she doubted he might stop himself. She began kneading her paws. She realized that she couldn't stay in this form; even now she was losing bits of herself as the cat instincts and thought patterns intruded subtly.

The Winchesters were speaking of solutions to the problem of the sleeping goddess. She wished she could help devise a plan. She could share with them some spells and recipes for potions that may heal her goddess. Karen knew Bast would be able to heal herself of what Karen could not. They spoke of a third person who may be able to heal her goddess, but they thought he may not come to them if they called for him— no, they said _pray_! So, they had a patron god or some other divine creature to whom they pray? She wanted to encourage this line of thinking. She leapt down from the bed and jumped up to the table. She mewed at them. Dean picked her up around her middle and dropped her on the ground. She growled at him and flattened her ears to the back of her head. She jumped up again. It was Sam Winchester who was speaking of this third person, urging his brother to call for him. Karen walked to Dean, looked into his eyes and pled with every ounce of feeling she could direct to him through the cat's limited facial expressions. She cried out with a long meow. She reached out and touched his face with a soft paw. _Please, help her_! Karen begged.

Both men looked at Karen. She could feel her tail bristle and the hairs on her back stand on end. She had to take the risk in order for her goddess to have the opportunity. She jumped down from the table and looked up at Dean. She stretched up on two feet, planting her front feet on his lap and meowed at him.

"Well," said Dean, "Karen was witch. Maybe it's a familiar of some kind?" Karen sat down on the floor and looked up at him. She turned toward the bookshelves of milk crates to look at the titles labeled on the binding. She turned around and faced the men. She meowed once more and touched a paw to the books, pulling them out of the neat rows in which Kat had them organized. Among the books were some on Egyptian gods and goddesses as well as herbal remedies and healing. They could find at least some references of healing magic from them. Sam walked to where Karen had bid them look. He picked Karen up and looked at the titles she had pulled. Karen turned her lithe body to face Sam and touched his chest with her paw. She purred into him and then wriggled until he deposited her on the bed.

When she Sam was collecting several books and going back to the table with them, she curled up on top of the sleeping Bast. Dean walked over to where she lay. He reached out a hand to touch her. She was frightened, but he was going to help Bast. She didn't know what his intentions were, but his body wasn't tense as a killer's might have been. Bast trusted him, and Karen had to trust that he wouldn't have earned that trust if he was the sort who might kill a cat who wasn't a threat. Karen hesitated; then, touched her nose to Dean's outstretched fingers. "Huh" was all he said. Karen lowered her head and tucked her cold nose under her paws. She closed her eyes and tried to rest. She would have to leave the rest to the humans. She couldn't cast spells in this form, but she could continue being a conduit for the small magic healing power she could send to Bast. Soon, she fell asleep purring softly.

It was dark when Karen awoke. Bast was stirring weakly under Karen's cat form. Karen looked up into Bast's green, slit-pupil eyes hidden in half-closed lids. Karen squeaked for joy. Bast tried to raise a clawed hand to her chest, but was yet too weak and dropped it back to the bed. Having heard the squeaky cat, Sam rose to walk to the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch Bast's face. She turned her face to look at him. She tried to rise. Karen moved off her chest, but did not leave her side. Sam helped to lift her to a semi-sitting position. She was left winded with that little bit of exertion and closed her eyes to rest for a few moments.

"You look like Hell." Sam commented.

A flash of a grin lighted her face, but Bast said nothing. She turned her head to the mackerel cat sitting on the bed next to her. Tears began to form sliding down her plaster-dusted face to become hard cement in her light short fur. A strangled sob escaped her. Sam mistook the cause of Bast's distress. He asked her what hurt. Karen understood. If she was able to cry in this form, she surely would have. Instead, she purred and rubbed against Bast.

Bast was able to lean into the displays of feline affection. One hoarse and broken word escaped her. It was too incomprehensible for Sam to make out, but Karen heard and understood. "Sorry" was all she could say.

*0000000*

Sam was at the table, trying to decipher the hieroglyphics around the Urn of Bast. He had discovered a few symbols that were similar to the cartouche Dean had been given. He found a few characters that represented a binding. With the books from Bast's bookshelves and the use of some internet research, he was able to deduce that he had absolutely no idea how it might help him in this situation. It was looking more and more like they would have to ask the help higher power.

He was unable to convince Dean to call on Castiel. If nothing else, he may be able to help restore Bast to the plane of existence where she could then help herself. If Bast had been telling the truth about being a "gatekeeper" to Paradise, Heaven was likely her true home, anyway. He looked across the table at Dean. He didn't really know what to think about his brother's issues with the angel. Castiel had let them know how the civil war between the angels was not going well for him. He looked at the Bast and the small feline guardian. Bast was switching between crying and comforting her small companion. The way they looked at each other, Sam began to suspect the cat was more than just a familiar. He just couldn't decide what. That's when he got an idea.

He rose from his seat. Dean looked up at Sam as he stretched his arm and shoulders. "I need to stretch my legs," he reported. "Do you want anything from the convenience store?"

Dean nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you think they have Jolt? And, one of those burritos. Maybe some nachos, if they don't look bad."

Sam laughed shortly. "I'll look." With that, and a last parting look at the reclined form of Bast, he left the room. He walked out of the parking lot and down past the last apartment in the complex. He walked into the alley behind the complex. He didn't bother yelling. Cas would hear him in a whisper. He would come or not, regardless of how loudly he was called. "Cas. We need your help. We found Bast. She's been hurt, and I think the thing that got her plans to do worse than pick a fight with a cat-goddess and one of her priestesses…"

"I'm here." Cas said from behind him. "Where is She?"

Sam looked at the angel. He wondered what had prompted him to come. He wondered why he would come for Her. Maybe she would be a powerful ally if he could figure a way to restore her power to her. "She's resting in one of these apartments. Cas, can I ask… why did you come for this? Is it to help, or is it something else?"

Cas had turned to look away as if listening to something beyond Sam's ability to hear. "Sam. Bast is a powerful weapon. The problem is… she can't be controlled. She causes chaos where ever she goes. She could be one of the most dangerous weapons Heaven has ever had. It's one of the reasons we have never tried to use her as one." Cas turned to look at Sam. "We have to contain Her. There is enough chaos without her being unleashed."

Sam began to doubt that calling the angel was a good idea. Still, maybe they could come up with something with Cas's help. He started back to the apartment. Castiel followed him.

Castiel followed Sam into the one room apartment. He took in the dust covered form on the bed and the witch-cat sitting with her. She was indeed very injured. She glared at the angel as he entered. The witch-cat turned to face the newcomer and arched her back, hissing and spitting at him. When he moved closer to the bed, the cat swatted and the goddess growled.

Dean stood up and crossed the room to stand in front of the angel. Castiel continued to watch Bast, but moved no closer to the goddess. "Hey, Cas. Uh, whatcha doin, buddy?" he said in a deceptively mild tone. His posture said something else. Dean was ready to scrap. He was still more than a little annoyed that Cas was unable or unwilling to come to his many summons unless bribed with the discovery of a heavenly weapon. That thought made him look up at his friend then turn to look at Bast.

Dean turned back to Castiel, reaching out to the angel's shoulder. "Can I talk to you a minute?" He asked. He nodded significantly to his brother. Sam nodded his understanding and went to the bed. Dean could hear Sammy talking softly to Bast. He ventured a peek at them and saw that both feline and goddess were paying close attention to Sam.

Castiel let Dean move him to the opposite area of the small room. He glanced over his shoulder at Sam and Bast from time to time. When he saw Sam help Bast stand and then walk to the bathroom door, he gave Dean his attention.

"Dean," Castiel began, "You don't know what kind of trouble you have walked into. Bast can't be trusted. She… is… Chaos."

Dean glared at his friend suspiciously. His eyes narrowed and he said, "Yeah. But chaos can be fun."

*0000*

Bast was angry and wary. She was so close to completing her mission. If she could destroy the serpent, she would willingly (but not happily) go into the custody of the angel. She knew that he was here to try and contain her once again. If there was one thing you could count on, it was that angels were all about order. Bast found that kind of obsessive need for order very boring.

She listened to Sam as he tried to get her to follow his instructions. She knew she wasn't strong enough to run from the angel, but he was suggesting moving to the other room. There was only one other room. She glanced at the bathroom door. She agreed. If nothing else, she thought, she could clean the cement powder out of her fur. It was starting to itch and hurt. She was tired, but she felt the need to be clean.

Sam helped her to the shower at her request. He sat her on the lip of the tub. She leaned her head against the cool fiberglass wall of the shower as he ran the water. She glanced at Sam as he stood up with his back partially to her. He stood near the door. He was trying to listen to Dean and Castiel. The cat jumped to sit on the lowered toilet lid and watched her silently. Bast began removing the red robe as the steam began to rise from the water pouring out of the spigot. She was able to lever her legs into the bathtub and slid down into the tub. Sam turned to see her briefly, and then quickly turned his back. Bast was amused to see the slow creep of blush began to color his face and neck. She chuckled softly to herself. She leaned forward to pull the spigot knob to activate the shower stream.

She was exhausted. She leaned against the bath back and let the hot water shower over her. She tried to scrub at her caked fur with her claws to dislodge the cement that had hardened there. She blew out a hard sigh and whimpered slightly. She could hear Sam moving from outside the shower curtain. "Are you okay?" He whispered.

"Not even remotely." She breathed. "I need help, Sam. Do you think you can get over your puritanical virtue to come and give me a hand?"

He knelt down against the bathtub. She handed him a long handled brush. He lathered it in soap and began helping scrub Bast's short fur. The hot water and soap seemed to re-energize her somewhat. She had gained some measure of strength. She looked up into Sam's hazel eyes. "I'm hungry." She said.

Sam laughed at her murmured cry. He held open a large fluffy bath sheet. The smell of soap filled the small room. It was very comfortable despite the steam that was too warm. She allowed him to wrap her in the towel and again leaned heavily against the bathtub wall. She sighed and stood on shaky legs to lean into him. He held her upright. He turned the doorknob and opened the door. He could hear his brother and the angel continue to argue. Bast stopped at their voices. She pushed away from Sam and stood with her chin up, denying the weakness he had seen in her. She waited for him to precede her. She walked into the room wrapped in nothing but the towel.

"Sam," she said, "Will you and Dean go and get something for us all to eat?" She turned to face Castiel. "I have to speak with our celestial friend here… in private."

Dean looked at Castiel with skepticism and then to Bast with concern. She stood with the ramrod straight posture of someone who wasn't going to budge from her chosen course of action. He shrugged then. There was nothing for it except to do as she asked. If what Castiel had been saying is true, he thought, there was no way to steer her away from what she planned… whatever that was!

She went to the dresser and pulled some clothing from the drawers. She sat down on the side of the bed. She placed her hand lightly on the cat's soft head. She murmured softly to her feline friend. She watched Sam and Dean leave the apartment, then turned to Castiel. She began talking as she dressed.

"I have a proposition for you, angel. I have something you need and I will give it to you freely," She paused as she pulled a shirt over her head. "You just have to do something for me."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9- The End Is Nigh

Dean and Sam returned to the apartment with sacks of fast food. Kat was sitting on the edge of her bed petting the cat. She had reverted to her former form, Dean noticed. He looked around him and noticed two things. Castiel was gone and the table that had been piled high with research materials was empty except for Sam's laptop and the cartouche Kat had given him. Kat watched the men as they put the food on the counter. She looked much better. Dean looked closely at her. She didn't just look better, she looked completely healed. There were no marks on her, her skin was soft and smooth, her color was nearly glowing, her beryl-colored eyes were bright, and she showed no evidence of the fatigue she had just twenty minutes before. Even the burn scars on her wrists under the bracelets were gone. A small smile even played at the edges of her mouth.

"Huh," Dean said, "Well, you got Castiel to change his mind." He lifted a burger from one of the sacks even as he sucked through the straw from a cup. He went to sit down at the table. "And throw in an angelic do-over." He managed with a mouth full of food.

"Your friend was very generous." She nodded. She stood up, deposited the cat on the bed. The cat looked annoyed at being deprived of his warm lap but then set himself down to clean his paws and face. Kat walked over to the table and picked up the cartouche. She unclasped it and approached Dean. He looked up at her, leaning back away from her. Her smile broadened. She approached him again and showed him the amulet. Lacing it around his neck, she stepped back from the boys to the counter. Grabbing a cup of whatever soda it contained, she leaned against the Formica countertop.

"I once heard a story about a mama cat that found a litter of two tiny pups after their mother was hit by a car. She took the pups to her own litter of three kittens and suckled them, dogs and cats together, until they were strong enough to eat solid food." She took a drink from the straw and watched the brothers.

"That was random." Dean said with a shake of his head. "Is there a point?"

"Cats confer honor where they wish. You can't convince them to be your friend. They have to decide to adopt you. They can be nurturing, loving, protective… and very loyal. But, it's their choice." She looked at the sleeping feline on her bed. "Humans can put a collar on a cat and treat her as if she were baggage belonging to them." She shook her head slowly. "In truth, the cat puts a mark on the soul of her chosen family." She glanced sideways at Dean. She gestured to the bed where the cat was curling up in the spot of sunlight streaming through the window. "Karen is gone now, and only the cat remains…" she nodded sadly at the now sleeping feline.

"That was Karen?" Dean asked with eyes wide. Kat nodded.

Both brothers remained silent for a few moments.

Kat pushed off from the counter and went to the bed. She rummaged underneath for a moment and pulled out a navy surplus duffel bag. She began pulling weapons out and laying them on the floor. She then began pulling out mason jars filled with liquids and powders or herbs. "I have one last chance to take out the serpent." She said to them softly. "He was a powerful sorcerer in life. He is a powerful demon now. He can use magics that most demons can't."

"How are you going to take him out?" Dean asked, "The last time you two crazy kids tangled, he nearly killed you _and_ he took out your priestess."

Kat stopped moving. She looked up at Sam and Dean. "There is no opportunity without a little risk, son!" She grinned. "I have a plan!"

It took two days until Kat had everything she needed to begin. Then, Sam and Dean were in the Impala heading north on the highway with Kat in the back seat. They had been driving all day and were approaching their destination. Occasionally Dean would look in the rearview to see Kat dozing her head leaning against the window. Once or twice he made eye contact with her as she studied him through the mirror, only to turn away when their eyes met. There was something he didn't quite trust about her. He didn't know why, but he felt like she had a secret and it concerned him. He hated that feeling…. Mostly, his distrust came from the fact that when he had had that feeling in the past, events turned bad for the Winchesters.

Dean was concerned about driving the Impala past the road closures and gates to keep people off the back roads. There was snow and ice covering patches of mud and paved roads into the back areas of forested terrain. He commented more than once that he refused to take his precious car into the unknown regions off the map because he didn't want it to be damaged. Kat encouraged him, telling him the protections were still in place on the car. He reluctantly continued up the slushy roads until he came to an abandoned cabin.

The three got out of the car and entered the dark, cold, dank cabin and lit a fire in the iron stove that remained intact. The roof was more or less whole, though there were water stains and leaking corners on the ceiling. No one spoke as they bustled about making the place habitable. Kat began piling debris from inside the cabin to just outside the door. She seemed much more introspective than she had in days. Dean thought it was as though she was still unconscious though her body moved around.

Kat began pulling herbs and various components from her bag and began assembling them, on the floor. She took out a stick of chalk and began drawing intricate patterns and hieroglyphs on the floor. She looked weary and drawn compared to how she appeared to Dean only that morning after she had spoken with Castiel. Dean caught her frozen in the middle of putting together the spell components looking off into the distance a few times as if she was listening.

"So, what exactly are _we_ doing during this confrontation?" Dean finally asked.

She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "You two will be outside. When I compel him to come, I will give you the signal and you will light the cabin on fire. Then, you will drive that big black car back down the mountain and have a nice life." She rose from the kneeling position she was in and dusted off her knees.

"Wait. What?" Sam exclaimed. "What happens to you?"

She smiled at him a little sadly. "Hopefully, if all goes according to plan, I burn him up in a very hot fire." She walked to her bag and pulled out a sack. "I don't have access to the kind of power that would allow me to defeat him and survive. I can use it all up in a final strike." She walked to Dean and touched his shirt, under which she could feel the slender metal cartouche. "This will keep you safe from the fire," she explained, "But, Sam will need to stay a ways away from the cabin, maybe take the car a bit down the road."

She poured the dark powder from the sack along the perimeter of the small cabin. The glyph and circle was in the middle of the room with a bowl of components and the alter similar to the one Karen had in her home. The Winchesters watched as she made preparations to compel her ancient nemesis into the trap. Dean left the room to go outside. Sam called after him but remained with Kat as she made her preparations. When she turned toward him to pour the powder on the wall adjacent to him, he could see a tear fall down her face. He went to step toward her. The look she leveled at him told him she would accept no comfort from him.

Dean returned from outside and pulled a can of spray paint out of a satchel he brought with him. He looked around the room for a chair or table. Kat stopped what she was doing to look up at him. He stepped up onto the table and began painting on the ceiling. Sam saw what he was doing and rummaged in the satchel Dean had brought in. He found salt, jugs of water, and another can of paint. He pulled the can out and walked to the door to draw a similar design on the porch front outside the door. Kat watched the men as they continued to draw Devil's traps. They said nothing to each other or to her. She couldn't think of anything to say to them. She knew the actions of the two men spoke to her louder than words could have.

It was quickly approaching midnight. Kat began pacing the interior of the cold room. She knew what was coming. She knew she should say good-bye. She knew she should thank the men for their help in this endeavor. She knew she should send them away. She began muttering under her breath. She loved this world. She loved the humans she had befriended over the centuries. She loved the fun, the music, the flavors and scents that humans brought into being. She didn't want to go. She wanted to make it safe for them, though. She didn't want the serpent to taint the world the Creator had made for them. Hopefully, He would allow her to return home after her sacrifice.

Dean watched her from where he sat loading the shotgun and Sam was blessing flasks of water. When Kat finally stopped pacing she stood facing them. She looked so concerned and nervous. He interrupted the words he knew she would speak. "What exactly will the signal be?" he asked.

"Oh, you'll know it when it comes…" she laughed.

Dean considered her response for a moment. "How powerful is this fire protection thing?"

Kat considered for a moment. "You would have to walk into the sun to get burned." She replied. "You could probably handle an atom bomb. Of course, you might suffocate… but, you wouldn't feel the heat!" Her eyes narrowed. "What are you thinking, Dean Winchester?"

"I was thinking that this whole plan could go sideways. You want me to start the fire on your signal. Then, you want us to leg it the hell out of here. How do we know the fire will gank this demon?"

She laughed. "It may not 'gank' _this_ demon…." She looked down at her feet. "It may just slow him down until he can figure a way outta hell again."

"Well," Dean said, "We have a nifty little knife that will send him express mail and you won't have to go nuclear. You get him in the trap, we gank him and we all go for pizza in Frisco by noon tomorrow."

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Dean" She said soberly. "Haremheuf is very powerful. It would take a deity to kill him. Even limited as I am, I may have _just _enough to send him back. Killing him may be a bit more than your weapon can do." She contemplated the idea tickling at the back of her brain a moment. " It couldn't hurt to add to his damage, though." She thought about it for a moment more. "If you give me the knife, I can use it and you can come back after the fireworks to get it back…" She eyed him speculatively as he shook his head.

Dean was about to respond with another question when they heard a rumble like the coming of an earthquake. "Shit!" Kat exclaimed. They all made for the middle of the room. Sam grabbed a hold of Dean's shoulder. Kat stood with arm reaching back behind her and body taut with tension. The walls and the roof began to rattle. "Shit, shit, shit!" Kat repeated. "You were saying about this thing going sideways, Dean? We gotta get you two outta here!" She screamed.

Dean held the shotgun ready and Sam held Ruby's knife. They were barely able to remain on their feet for the shaking and wind. Kat began muttering an incantation. The rumbling got louder. The shaking inside the cabin became more and more intense. Pieces of the rickety roof began caving in. Kat made a face. "You know, I am beginning to hate roofs."

A giant scrap of the ceiling peeled back. The part of the ceiling on which Dean had carefully constructed the Devil's trap ripped apart. The dark powder that Kat had laid around the cabin perimeter blew as dust in an oncoming storm. Yep. The plan had definitely gone sideways. Kat cursed to herself for being so stupid as to name the demon aloud. He had to have been alerted by her slip. She just had to keep the two men alive long enough to flee. She could still salvage this disaster if she could just manage to get them out.

Demons usually ghosted in or out of a place in a cloud of black smoke. Haremheuf glided in humanoid form with giant leathery bat wings. He looked for the entire world like a fantasy artist rendition of what humans imagined demons should look like. He used this ideal to harness the worst fear of the on-looker. Kat was not impressed. She knew it had to be now or never, but she could not and would not risk the lives of the two men she had put in danger by bringing them here.

"Ah…" said the demon in a tinny metallic voice. "Hello, little kitten. It has been quite a while since you and I have seen each other." He grinned a large, toothy smile. His sharp pointed teeth like a shark's and his dead, cold eyes stared down at her as he dropped down through the whole in the roof.

Kat hissed and waited. She dared not use or call forth any of the reserved power she had managed to store since the healing Castiel had bestowed upon her. She needed all that she had for the final strike on her nemesis. She had a metallic taste in the back of her mouth and her mind was racing. Her body shivered with anxiety and anticipation. She could feel the body heat of the two Winchesters behind her. She growled deep in her chest. Her eyes intently watched the demon land in front of her.

"I have to know, little kitten. How did you escape the urn into which I imprisoned you, hm? Humans no longer have the skill or the information to release you. I made sure of that long ago… I wonder where you have hidden it. I will find it, you know, and I will stuff you back inside. This time, I won't let a silly human hold it. I will carry you around with me. I will keep you like the household pet you are." He laughed loudly and with gusto. His gaze upon Kat turned speculative. His red eyes narrowed and his grin grew larger. "Then again… perhaps I will keep you in this form. Imagine the… fun… we could have, Goddess of Sensual Pleasure. Perhaps you _could_ amuse me in this form. I can show you how those acts of pleasure can be terrifying. Oh, I can show you such _things_!" He took a step toward her.

Dean shot the approaching demon with the shotgun as Sam lunged at him with Ruby's blade. The golden light flashed under the demon's skin where Ruby's blade hit and the demon was pushed back a couple steps by the force of the rock salt fired at such close range. In Sam's other hand, he held a flask of holy water. He threw the contents onto the demon making his skin steam. But, it didn't sizzle as they expected it should. Sam and Dean both stood aghast at the lack of impact their weapons seemed to have on the creature.

Kat grasped both men by their wrists and pulled them out the door to the darkness outside the cabin. She ripped open the door to the Impala and shoved one of the brothers into the passenger seat. She pushed the other to indicate he should also get in the car. Her eyes were wide as saucers. She felt her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. Dean turned to face her. "GO!" she shouted in an anguished voice. "You have to GO!"

Dean stood in indecision for a moment, but turned toward the sound of crashing and splintering wood. He pointed the gun at the creature emerging from the destruction. "Light it!" he shouted at her.

She turned to see Sam sitting now in the driver's seat. He had turned the ignition. "Sam has to go." She said, "He needs to get farther away or he…" She gulped hard and unshed tears stood in her eyes. The Impala began to back up, but the wheels began to spin.

"You weren't leaving so soon?" The demon purred.

Kat attempted to overbear the demon by the simple expedient of rushing him. She bowled him over and the two flailed together in fists, claws and biting teeth. Dean could see blood spurting from the caramel skin of the cat-goddess and black ichor oozing from the demon. He heard the shrill scream from the woman and she was thrown far from the demon. He turned to face the flying form of Bast as she landed in the side of a tree trunk and crumpled to the ground. Her eyes looked dazed and glassy, and Dean caught the smell of ozone; he saw the golden flames leap from Bast's wrists. Dean watched her rise to a kneeling position. He began to leg it toward the now retreating Impala. He waved his brother to go faster.

Bast pulled in the life energy from all around her. She pulled everything she could from herself. She tried to harness the rapidly cooling heat the trees had absorbed from the long sunny day. As she pulled in the power all around her, she began to rise. She felt pain like she had never known. She needed to destroy the evil creature in front of her. She knew Dean had some protection against the power she planned to unleash, but she regretted she may end up destroying Sam Winchester in the process. Perhaps the Impala would afford Sam enough protection. She didn't know. She couldn't think about that now. She had to focus entirely on the power she would direct toward her foe.

A shotgun blast echoed in the forest and rock salt flew at the demon. Another blast followed that one. She spared a moment of attention to find Dean so close. He stayed behind a large fallen tree as he reloaded his weapon. She could hear the click of shells falling to the pine needle strewn floor. She could smell the gunpowder, pine resin and crushed needles. She heard the rapid beat of Dean's heart and his labored breath. She felt the tempo of forest life all around her as the power of the goddess filled her. _Not enough_, she mused silently_. It's not enough_. She couldn't despair. She had to finish this.

She ground her teeth. She clenched her jaw. She could no longer contain all she was pulling into her. She released the stored and focused power in a wave of golden fire at her enemy. She emptied herself as Dean was now emptying his weapon at the demon. She could feel every bit of herself leaving in the painfully burning inferno. Trees near her began to sizzle and steam. The needles at her feet curled into ash. The ground at her feet became obsidian glass as the heat liquefied and cooled the gravel and sand under her. She had difficulty continuing to breathe. Silver flashes appeared in her vision and she was weakened. She slid down to the forest floor. She had given all she had. She lifted her eyes to see what devastation she had wrought. She blinked.

From the smoke and flying ash, a shadow loomed. The shadow of a creature unfurled bat-like wings. One beat of those wings swirled the acrid smoke in eddies and Bast did despair. She sobbed and gasped. She found her arm being pulled toward the warm and musky form of Dean Winchester. A green nimbus enveloped him. She let loose the tears she knew fell uselessly. _It was all for nothing_. She made a deal with angels, she gave up immortality, she spent all that she was and would ever be and it was all for nothing.

She leaned into Dean's warm chest. He pulled her behind the fallen tree. He leveled the shotgun at the demon and Bast could hear the evil chortle as the rock salt hit the demon harmlessly. We're dead, she thought. I killed us all. She looked up through bleary eyes at the hunter. She wouldn't be able to save him now. All she ever wanted was a family, and she had hoped he would accept her as a member of his. _A cat confers honor where it will_, she thought. He doesn't even know; he will never know. She dropped her head and sobbed weakly.

"Come on," Dean demanded. His voice, probably subconsciously, taking on the timbre and tone of a drill sergeant. "Get up!" He commanded.

She struggled. The tone was enough. She had to think. She had to risk it all. She tried to rise to one knee and begin focusing the power she could sense at the edges of her consciousness. Sparks flew from the bracelets on her wrists and she cried out. Dean saw her effort. He knelt beside her and cast occasional glances at the approaching form of the demon. The demon continued to cackle wildly as it approached slowly, menacingly. Dean's mouth moved silently as he tried to formulate a plan. He tried to convince Kat with his eyes that she couldn't give up. Kat breathed hoarsely, but looked at Dean with regret. "You have to leave," she whispered.

"Yeah, not gonna happen." He said through clenched teeth. He shot the demon again.

Kat looked around her. He was running out of shotgun shells and she knew the demon would tear him apart. "You have to leave" she repeated. He voice was small and ended in a coughing fit. She closed her eyes and leaned heavily against the tree trunk. "Leave." She repeated.

He looked at her, weighing his options. She opened her eyes to watch the waves of indecision war in him. She saw it in his eyes when he decided he should go. He was reluctant, but she was glad he made the decision. She smiled at him and closed her eyes. His hand lighted on her arm briefly.

"There's a mark … a… line. It binds…" she whispered and she pointed softly to his heart. His face went white and he felt a sinking cold feeling. He narrowed his eyes and looked ready to explode at her. "You put graffiti on my soul? What is it with you supernatural S.O.B.'s? You see a soul and can't help yourself. I should just…"

"No…" she coughed. "The line doesn't… it doesn't bind you to me…" She looked up into his angry green eyes. "It binds me to you."

Dean blanked. What was she telling him? There was no time for this…

"We can talk about this later." He said and began to lift her. She struggled enough that he had to put her down. He could hear the heavy footsteps of the demon approaching closer now. He called out to them, taunting them as he approached. "Go!" she told him yet again. He rose to a crouch and looked over the tree. The demon was within striking distance. Dean could see all the details of his face. He could see the cruel curve of his mouth filled with saber-like teeth and the red glow of his demon eyes. Dean took a deep breath and began to turn around. He nearly ran right into Castiel.

Cas was looking up at the demon with a look that could be interpreted as hate. He glanced down at the spent form of Bast in her human form. Cas raised his hand, splayed fingers and a soft pale glow came from him. The bracelets fell from Bast's wrists. Dean looked down at Bast. Instead of pupils, her eyes now burst into a green flame. "Dean, you should… run." Dean needn't be told twice. When he looked back, he saw a silhouette of red and golden flame where the goddess of pleasure had once been. She grew brighter and brighter. Dean turned his gaze away from her. He ran harder down the mountainous terrain. He kept running even when he heard an inhuman scream reverberate across the mountainside that seemed to explode. He kept running even when a pillar of golden fire lit the midnight sky and the popping and exploding of pine tree shook the ground.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten- We're Done Here

Sam and Dean had tried to return to the cabin, but the fire was intense. They had watched forestry trucks attempt to climb the hill. They managed to avoid scrutiny from law enforcement by impersonating DEA officials. They were "investigating reports of strange lights and sounds up into the mountains" when the top of one had blown up. They spent a good deal of time waiting to see if Bast might emerge from the blaze. When the sun began to rise in the east, the Winchesters descended the mountain in their black car. They drove in silence.

They headed to San Francisco for the pizza Dean had craved since mentioning it to Bast just last night. Dean had pulled the cartouche out from around his neck and sat at the red and white checkered table staring at it. The waitress brought a frosty mug of beer for both men and left without comment. Sam stared out the window.

"What about Cas?" Sam asked. He turned from window to look at his brother. Dean made a disgusted face and scoffed. "Yeah, right" Dean said. He shook his head at his brother. "There was something she said, though. Before…"

Sam gave Dean his attention, waiting for him to continue. Dean looked like he was trying to formulate the words that would explain the quandary in his mind. "I just don't get it. We know there are angels trying to collect souls. Demons have been doing it for millennia… She said she didn't mark my soul for her to collect." He shook his head again. He really couldn't figure it. Death had instructed him to keep looking into the matter of souls. Bast had handily thrown a wrench into all he had learned so far. Why did she say she was bound to him, and to what purpose?

The waitress brought the chicken wings and pizza, ending the conversation. The smell of garlic, cheese and marinara, sausage and pepperoni, spicy hot wings and blue cheese filled the air around them. Dean was ravenous. Both brothers pulled two pieces at a time and wolfed the food down. All the plates were empty by the time they were ready to resume their conversation. But by that time, the pizzeria had become very crowded. The waitress came back to the table with the bill and Dean handed her a credit card. As he sat back to wait for the bill to be processed, he looked out the window.

He saw a black and red '69 Camaro cruise down the street. He reached to get Sam's attention and rushed out the restaurant door. Sam waited to handle the check and he joined his brother. "Where is it?" he asked Dean. They both looked around and didn't see it in the direction they saw it going. The hilly street was one way, but there was no sign of the Camaro. Dean nodded his head toward the Impala and they both jumped in.

As they drove down the street, both men looked down alleyways and side streets. They watched for the Camaro to no avail. They ended up leaving Frisco without the cat-goddess, and without solving the mystery of where the vanishing car had gone. By mutual consent, they headed back toward Santa Barbara and back to Kat's apartment. Dean still had questions and if she survived, he figured she would end up there.

As they pulled into the driveway of the apartment complex, Sam touched Dean's arm to alert him. There were carpet cleaners outside the apartment heading inside. A small Middle Eastern man stood outside gesturing to the cleaners who seemed to only half-heartedly listen to his instructions. Sam and Dean drove up and fished identifications out of the glove box before approaching the men. Approaching the man in charge, the men asked if they could question him regarding the former occupant of the apartment.

"I don't know what I can tell you, Agents." He said. "She seemed such a nice girl. She paid in cash and on time every month. This morning, a man came from an attorney's office in the city. He had instructions about what to do with all the stuff she had inside. He said that she was unable to do these things herself! It's no problem… I just boxed the books like she wanted. I don't know what a nice girl was doing with those books. They are not good things for such a nice girl…" He shook his head and continued to explain how he only rents to nice people and how he didn't expect for this to happen. He never did ask if she was in any trouble.

"Would you mind if we looked around?" Dean asked him.

"Sure, sure! No problem!" He waved his hands dismissively.

Dean and Sam walked in to the apartment. All the papers were off the walls and the books were packed in U-Haul boxes. The papers had been carefully stuffed inside a large manila envelope. On the envelope, the address read "Singer Salvage" in South Dakota. The brothers looked at each other. Sam went outside to ask where he got the address.

"He keeps saying it was the directions given him by the lawyer." Sam gave Dean the business card with the lawyer's name and address. Dean slid the phone open and dialed the number. After a couple of transfers and repeating his request to a few more people, he finally was directed to a man who knew about what Dean was talking.

"Agent Johnson, I received instructions from my client to deliver books from an apartment at that address and boxes which were delivered here at my offices to Mr…. uh… Robert Singer at Singer Salvage in South Dakota. I was not informed why or what personal relationship my client had with Mr. Singer, if any. There were other effects that were to be delivered to other individuals at addresses all over the country. If you would like a list of the items and to whom they were bequeathed…"

"Bequeathed?" Dean asked. "Is your client dead?"

"I was informed that she had died this morning. She must have known it was going to happen fairly soon, though. She made arrangements for me to expedite her wishes as early as two days ago. She also told me to answer any and all questions should someone inquire. Otherwise, our clients' confidentiality is paramount and you would need a court order to obtain this information. Was there anything else, Agent?"

Dean gave the lawyer a fax number where he could send the list and hung up the phone. This was damned confusing and Dean was at a loss to determine what was happening. Maybe, they should head to Karen's and to the storage locker. Dean was curious more than anything else. This looked like a mystery he wouldn't be able to solve. It was likely that there was nothing to solve. Kat was technically Bast. Bast is… was… a goddess. Things could just work funny when deities were concerned. Cas had said that she was chaos. Well, she could be just proving Castiel right.

They drove the Impala down the cul-de-sac where Karen had lived. It was exactly as Dean had seen it days ago when Kat and he had first arrived. There was no obvious damage to the front of the building. The grass in the front yard was green. The paint on the front of the house was still pristine white and the trim was still bright blue. The people out in the street and on the sidewalks still gathered in groups to chat about the mundane. The Impala parked in the space the Camaro had occupied when Dean came back to find Karen dead and Kat critically injured. The Camaro was nowhere to be seen.

The Winchesters walked up to the front door. _Both_ doors from the double door entry no longer hung limply from their hinges, they were completely removed. The men stepped cautiously through the open gap and found that the scene they had come to earlier in the week was "Cleaned". Karen was gone. Most of the items marking her as a witch or priestess, whatever she was, were also gone. The debris from the ceiling still littered the floor. The destruction of the roof and all the things below, including a dried puddle of blood still littered the room.

"It's a real shame about that girl." A man's deep voice said from the doorway. The boys turned to see a big, muscular black man standing in the hole. He nearly filled in for the door that was missing. "She was always so quiet and sweet. Many of the neighbors whispered and made rude comments about her, but I liked her."

"Can you tell us what happened to her?" Sam asked as he and his brother flashed FBI badges at him.

"I can't say for sure. Must have been some kind of accident with the electrical or with the gas. There was a big explosion and the roof caved in as far as anyone can tell. Killed that poor girl dead. It took such a long time for the police to get out here. I don't really know why; though, apparently, they had a cruiser in this area that day. They had some mechanical issues with their GPS or computer or something. They ended up driving around in circles nearly all day before they got here." The big man shook his head sadly, "Not that it would have done poor Karen any good. Paramedics that showed up said she was likely dead when the roof fell in."

Dean remembered the game of cat and mouse Kat had lead that kicked off that cruiser going in circles. He hid the grin at the memory of blasting music and cruising around with five-oh tailing them but never catching them. He turned to face away from the mourning neighbor when he couldn't repress the grin on his face at the memory of turning the tables on the squad car and Kat began tailing them.

Sam stayed near the neighbor asking questions and talking with him quietly. Dean went back to the back room. The bathtub was still filled with water. The room still smelled like soap and perfume. He looked around at the so many mysterious things that women seemed to need in their bathrooms and homes. There were beauty products and fluffy things. There were vials and bottles of strange lotions and liquids. Karen's bedroom was similar to her bathroom. There were candles and objects he couldn't identify on tables and near the bed. The bed was covered with red silken bed sheets and a fluffy down comforter. There were more pillows on the head of the bed than even _four_ people could reasonable use at night. The closet had a variety of wardrobe options. Many of the soft and shiny robes and gowns displayed the luxurious nature of a priestess of Bast. The utilitarian wardrobe options of durable pants and shirts bespoke the functional aspects of a woman's life in California. Hiking boots sat next to shiny black dress shoes with high heels on the closet floor.

He was about to leave when he saw a photo frame on the dresser lying face down. He picked it up to reveal the glass pane had broken. In the photo, Kat's emerald orbs shone brightly at him through a smiling brown face. Kat's soft black curls seemed to be blowing in a gust of wind. Her hair was longer than the last time Dean had seen her. Next to her was Karen, looking relaxed and looping her arm around Kat's waist, her head inclined into Kat's shoulder. Both women were smiling for the camera and leaning against Kat's green Camaro at the airfield. Dean pulled the photo from the frame and pocketed it in his jacket.

As he headed down the hallway, Sam met him halfway. He had gotten very little information they didn't already have from the neighbor, but Sam indicated they should probably go. Sam was informed that no doubt three or four of the concerned citizens on this street had no doubt already made the call to the police on their speed dial. Dean made a revolted expression and a offended jeer, but pulled the keys from his pocket. They were in the car when Dean froze. Sam recognized that sometimes Dean stopped moving to chase down a thought and any distraction may cause him to lose scent of it. He waited until Dean looked up at him.

"Where did the neighbor say they took the Camaro?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," Sam brightened. "He said they didn't. I asked him about the car in the driveway and he acted like I spoke Greek! He told me that the car must have been gone long before the police got here because he didn't see it and the police got here after he did."

Dean started the Impala and they left. They headed out to check the storage locker, though they figured that the lawyer may have already made arrangements to clear it and send its contents to Kat's heirs. Sure enough, there was a moving truck near the locker. Sam made the call to Bobby as they drove up to the storage yard to find out if he had gotten a list from the lawyer. Dean headed over to talk to the movers as Sam spoke on the phone to Bobby.

A nod of Sam's head and his upraised mobile indicated he had news. Dean strode over to him. "Okay," Sam began. "Kat had five people on the list of heirs." Sam looked at his brother hesitating momentarily. Dean looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to carry on. "Well?" He said finally when Sam didn't continue right away.

Sam's voice lifted an octave when he responded, "Well…" Sam was uncomfortable and Dean could see it. "Spit it out, Sam." Dean said with annoyance in his voice and face. He gave Dean the notepad Sam had written the heirs names on. Bobby Singer, Sam And Dean Winchester, Adam Watanabe, Raymond and Clare Simmons, and Lisa and Ben Braeden appeared on the list. When Dean saw the list, his eyes automatically saw Lisa's and Ben's names without registering any of the others. Dean's jaw clenched and he took a sharp breath in. His shaky hand gave his brother back the notepad and he went to sit in the Impala. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. He stared straight ahead through the windshield at nothing in front of him. Sam had given him a few minutes to recover, but that was how Sam found his brother when he returned to the car.

Sam sat in the passenger seat and watched Dean's face. Dean's chest rose and fell raggedly and his eyes were motionless and glassy with unshed tears. His grip flexed on top of the wheel. Sam took a breath in to say something to his brother, some words of comfort played in his mind. Dean sensed his brother was about to make things awkward. He blinked rapidly and rubbed his face on his shoulder across his shirt. He reached down to start the ignition.

Before Sam could say a word, Dean held up his hand to stop him. The look on Dean's face meant business. Sam raised his hands in surrender. He knew his brother wouldn't tolerate any "chick flick" moments right now. He might be able to broach the subject again later, but not right now.

"Where to now?" Sam asked.

"We're done here." Dean responded in a flat tone. Sam sat next to Dean in silence. As they were driving east on the freeway, Dean finally seemed to rouse himself and he turned on the radio. Skynyrd sang, "still alive, still alone, still unbroken" into the cabin of the car at the maximum volume the two could endure without ruining their hearing.


	11. Chapter 11

Epilogue- Battle Creek, Michigan Three Months Later

Students from the local middle school were filing in lines through the gate at the end of their school day. Groups of boys pushed each other in rough-housing play and ran or threw a ball for a friend to catch. Girls gathered in giggling clusters near the tree at the front of the school, near the low cement wall at the front of the building or walked down the main road in front of the school. Ben was leaning down over the bike rack to unchain his bike. He bid farewell to a buddies as they passed by him, slapping him on the back. He smiled at his friends and turned back to the chain. A young girl loitered nearby with her friends casting shy glances at the young man. As Ben began walking his bike toward the street, he became aware of his audience. The girl's friends were giggling loudly and Ben knew they were encouraging the girl to talk to him. He slowed down his pace to give her a chance to approach him.

When the girl finally detangled herself from her coterie, she approached Ben shyly, eyes cast down looking up through eyelashes and a slow cast of crimson begins to color her complexion. He had always been pretty confident when it came to talking to girls, but he had started feeling slightly self-conscious around them lately. He covered with a certain amount of bravado, hoping they didn't sense how ill at ease he had become since entering middle school.

Dean sat in the Impala parked in the parking lot at the arboretum across the street from the middle school. He watched the exchange between Ben and the little girl. A smile spread across his face in pride at Ben's ability to interact with girls. He shook his head at the exchange he imagined was taking place in front of him. He let his smile slip slightly as he realized he could approach him no closer than this. He wished things might have been able to return to normal with Sam, with Lisa… with Ben. But he had really frightened his family. It may take more work than he thought he may be capable of in order to repair this.

He sat staring out his windshield at the cars passing, the children walking home, the rustle of the wind in the leaves. He had the radio off; he closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the headrest. He listened to the sounds of voices, cars and wind. He tried to relax. Since he found out that Bast had somehow known about the family he left in Michigan, he worried that something supernatural might come for them. In three months, he hadn't had a report of anything or seen anything out of the ordinary when he looked into his concerns. He saw that Ben had been given the '69 Camaro. Bobby had finally deciphered the glyphs on the car and told Dean that Ben would be safer in that supercharger than in a Hummer. Dean felt comforted only by the fact that Ben was a long ways away from being able to drive it. There was no way Lisa would let him until he was much older anyway, he knew.

As Dean sat there absorbing the sun's warmth, the radio came on of its own volition. "Free Bird" rifted silkily over the speakers belting Skynyrd singing, "Won't you fly high free bird" and Dean's eyes popped open. The look of alarm on his face mirrored the worry he had harbored for the past three months. He flipped the radio off. He scanned the area around him. Nothing else seemed at all out of place. He pulled the EMF reader out of the glove box. Turning it on, he got no response. He looked up from the EMF to look once more out the window. Outside, in front of the Impala, was a tall woman with warm golden skin, long dark hair tumbling in cascades of curls and dressed in a silky scarlet dress. She looked at him with emerald green eyes and had a serene smile quirking at the sides of her mouth. Dean looked at her shocked and opened the car door to slowly get out. He saw that she didn't move except to watch him as he did. He walked to the front of the car to come toe to toe with her. He had managed to regain some of his composure, though when he spoke to her, his voice was hushed.

"We thought you died." He whispered.

Bast lowered her gaze and her smile diminished slightly. "I did, in a way." She replied. "I can't come back the way I was. I'm not sure I would if I could. Living like a mortal is really a lot more… "She looked up at him through her eyelashes in the way Ben's friend had when she was talking to Ben. "It's really too exciting for me." She finished. She watched Dean's expressions and tried to gauge his mood.

Dean kept staring at her. He was filled with questions and he still had concerns about Lisa and Ben's safety. "I need to know," he began.

She stopped him before he could finish by raising her hand to him. She shook her head. Dean noticed there were no marks or burns on her arms. The bracelets that held the binding ward were also gone. He remembered how they had fallen off when Castiel had appeared on the mountaintop. "I can't stay long and I know you have questions. Let me say that I knew I wouldn't be coming back here… no matter what the outcome would have been. You know by now that the gifts I left are meant to help protect those I left behind." She looked at the school front. She stood that way for a moment before she deliberately turned back to Dean.

"Castiel released you from the binding that made you… human?" he asked.

She scoffed mildly at that and she turned to lean against the fender of the Impala. "I was never really human, Dean. I was trapped between what I was and mortal. I'm not sure it could have been considered human, though." She kicked at the gravel in the parking lot with her sandaled foot. Dean looked at her with appreciation. Before she had been more human, but there was an air of something other-worldly about Kat. He could see that this was not Kat. The aspect of Bast he knew as Kat was really gone. Bast was hard muscle under warm gilded skin. Her movements were fluid and light, but under the grace was a predator in the tall grass. Her smile was set to inspire a welcome from Dean, but the humor did not reach her agate eyes. He could definitely see now what the Egyptians had seen of the cat in this being.

Dean didn't relax, but most the questions he had for Kat were dismissed from his mind. He looked at the creature that was Bast for a long time. He leaned against the Impala next to her, affecting a more relaxed posture. "So, did you just go back to heaven with Cas, or…" he left the question hanging. He knew Cas had seen Bast as a potential weapon he could use against the angelic forces siding with Raphael. He also knew that Cas was reluctant to utilize her. She was quiet for a several moments. "I can't go to heaven" She said hiding her face behind locks of her soft hair. Dean turned to face her. He reached up and pushed her hair back away from her face. She turned away from him.

"Things don't always work out just in terms of black and white… there are all kinds of shades of grey." She answered.

"Do you see Cas at all where you go?" He asked.

Bast inhaled deeply and shifted her position. "Cas. Well, Cas has a very… uncomfortable… relationship with me. See, angels are all about order and that black and white thing. He doesn't quite get me. He certainly doesn't trust me. He will try hard _not_ to request my assistance in his struggle." She sobered very quickly and looked into the afternoon sky. "Even now, your friend is having a _very_ bad day. Things have gone incredibly wrong and he is using all the weapons he knows how to use to try and win." She flashed a lopsided smirk at Dean. "He's even received help without his knowledge from a certain cat lover he knows." She shrugged. "He only needs to ask. He won't though. He won't unless he can see no other choice. To be honest, when you're trying to restore order, you really can't use something that has unpredictable effects. I am trying to stay out of it as much as possible. But, I owe him. I like to pay off my debts."

She smiled and glanced up at the world as it passed by their small tableau. "I am not here. I can't go there." She glanced at Dean and then sighed, "I came to tell you not to worry about them, Dean." Her tone and body language told him she referred to Lisa and Ben now, and not to Castiel. She continued, "I am watching them _very_ carefully. I have… friends… who keep an eye on them when I am busy… elsewhere." She looked straight ahead as groups of people walked through the park coming or going, runners passed by, mothers strolled with children in tow.

"How did you know about them?" Dean asked with his eyes determined and stern.

Bast's smile became a grin as she looked at him. He was surprised to see elongated and sharp canine teeth bared in her smile. He was taken aback at how cat-like she appeared after all. She either ignored his reaction or didn't see it. She explained, "Dean, I told you. There is a mark on your heart and the line from your heart connects to those around you who mean the most to you. The tie to Sam is definitely the strongest. I knew about Bobby because there is a link between both you and Sam that connects to the fantastic Mr. Singer." She laughed with a mirth that nearly approached her eyes that time. She sobered slightly and waited a long moment before continuing. "The strongest bond with you besides the one with Sam is the one to that young man. I know you love his mother, Dean, but it is the bond of the child you claim as yours that attracted me to you."

Bast peered into Dean's face to determine what his reaction to this would be. "So, what is it you want from me?" he asked. She exhaled to herself.

She was compelled to come here, to make things right. The problem was, she didn't know how to do that. She wasn't even supposed to be here now. Castiel had threatened her with imprisonment in the urn he had taken from the apartment if she disobeyed once more. She had forfeited it to him in exchange for his cooperation. He held it in abeyance in exchange for her continued good behavior. This won't be the only time Cas will have regretted being lenient with her. It often amused her to see how far she could push the angel's tolerance. He was _so_ much fun to push.

"I told you once that there was a line between us." She said sheepishly. "There is a mark that binds me to you. I don't want anything from you, Dean. Except…" she regarded him furtively. "I need to feel purpose. Allow me to fulfill my purpose." Her eyes pleaded with Dean to understand. He had all the information. Just as an angel needed permission to utilize a vessel, so she felt she required Dean's direct permission to continue protecting his family. He had work to do. He needed to have his attention fully on the road ahead, and she could keep an eye on this area of the world for him. It had eaten at her since Balthazar had released her from her prison. He had said to her, "_Your family is gone. You have no followers. You have no purpose."_ Those words boomed in her head when she wandered limbo waiting to be needed in the struggle for heaven.

Dean was so much like her. He was a creature of decadent pleasures and comforts. He was a fierce protector. And he had a family that consisted of members mainly not of his blood. He, too, had a self-confidence issue revolving around the purpose he dictated for himself. Oh, yes. She could understand this human. They had a great many things in common.

Dean grinned at her. Here was an answer to the conflicts he felt welling up inside him over the course of the year since he left Lisa and Ben to join Sam to Hunt. It seemed pretty ironic to him that Sam pulled him away from the beginnings of a family to go Hunting, leaving his family vulnerable and unprotected. It was what Dean had done years before. Dean had pulled Sam away from the family he had made leaving Jessica unprotected and vulnerable. Dean had moments when he feared the same end for Lisa and Ben while he was on the road. It chilled him to not be able to protect them. He looked again at Bast. She cast covert glances at Dean as though detecting the answer in some way known only to her.

Bast knew when Dean decided to grant permission. It showed in his shoulders, in the set of his mouth, in the look in his bright green eyes. She smiled, faced him and leaned against his chest. She tilted her head up to him and whispered to him "Thank you." She kissed his lips and he reached up to put his hand on her hip. She was warm and smelled of cinnamon. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Bast was gone.

He smiled briefly before getting back into the Impala. _Man_, he thought, _I could have scored with an actual goddess_. He shrugged, turned the ignition, and pulled the car out and on the road. He had work to do and a long road ahead. Best get started.

END


End file.
